


Operation: Steve

by kristen999



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-20 15:16:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 35,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13720401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristen999/pseuds/kristen999
Summary: For the first time in a month, Danny recognized a quiet furor in Steve’s words, a simmering passion stirring to the surface.  Maybe going undercover on an off-shore oil rig could help stoke the dormant embers inside Steve and create a spark that had been missing for weeks. At least that was Danny’s plan.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This story is complete. I will post a new chapter every other day or so as I polish. Set after season 7.
> 
> I started this story last summer then had to put it aside when I got hit with writer’s block. I picked it back up during the winter. 
> 
> Thank you to my beta reader Gaelicspirit and to Esteefee for the once-over. Also, a huge thank you to Ibyshire for her cheer-leading and suggestions.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/155318542@N02/43861337581/in/dateposted-family/)

Artwork by: nihilvanum

***

The schmucks on Sports Center argued for ten minutes about a foul play during a game Danny didn’t care about. All he wanted was the segment on the upcoming NFL draft, so he could pick a better team and win the HPD’s pool this season. He checked his watch; it was getting late. Good thing he put dinner in the oven to it keep warm. 

The lasagna would probably taste better after it sat, but it was still frustrating that Danny never knew when Steve would return home after his monthly drill. Normally, he worked from Pearl-Hickman, but sometimes Steve went on a naval vessel to do whatever it was that weekend warriors did. On rare occasion, he went somewhere classified, but Steve’s CO gave him notice if training took him far away.

The last few months, though, had been more about reestablishing routines, settling into a groove that maybe didn’t exist anymore. _The new normal_ was what their therapist had called it. It was a phrase she used often in the bi-weekly sessions Danny had insisted they return to after Steve had failed to communicate about that little bout of radiation poisoning.

The sound of keys turning in the lock drew Danny’s attention. Steve walked inside still wearing his fatigues and carrying a duffle over his shoulder, the burden of it seeming to create a drag in Steve’s steps. He nodded at Danny and gave him a gruff, ‘hey’ before heading toward his office.

Danny frowned at the brusque greeting and followed Steve as he walked past the dining room. “Good evening, Danny, how was your day? Oh fine, thanks for asking.”

Steve threw his duffle onto the floor and unshouldered his laptop case, setting it on the desk. “I’m sorry, I just…,” he exhaled like he’d been holding his breath and couldn’t do it a second longer. “I didn’t have a great week.”

It wasn’t often that Danny heard those words from Steve after his reserve training; normally he was pretty fired up after a weekend of high adrenaline. But there were dark circles under Steve’s eyes and he stood like it took an insurmountable amount of energy to remain upright.

“I made dinner. Why don’t you sit down, relax. Have a beer or two. I’ll make a plate.”

Steve dropped eye contact and looked at his stuff like he wanted to use unpacking as an excuse to say no. Danny placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder and began corralling him toward the living room. 

“Come on, after dinner you can take shower and to go bed early.”

Steve didn’t say a word as he wandered into the living room and slumped onto the loveseat. He didn’t even look over at the TV. Clucking his tongue, Danny returned to the kitchen to see if food and a little alcohol could chill Steve out enough to tell him what was bothering him.

***

Dinner was short. Steve had been non-verbal; quickly eating with a mumbled thank you before putting his stuff away and going upstairs. Danny was a doer; he liked being included in whatever was going on.

He stood in the middle of the kitchen and considered his options. Obviously, Steve was upset, but Danny wasn’t sure how to help him, and it hurt his heart not knowing what to do.

His eyes drifted to the far left kitchen cabinet. Walking over, he opened the door and stared at the medication bottles Steve had unpacked, at this whole _new normal_ thing they still struggled with. 

Sadly, he had a suspicion what was going on.

***

Danny removed his t-shirt and jeans and threw them into the hamper before crawling under the sheets to lie next to the unmoving lump on the opposite side of the bed. 

Steve flipped onto his back. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

The apology was unexpected; Steve didn’t admit mistakes often, and to greet him with apology was a genuine attempt at talking, even if it wasn’t really needed. Danny traced the edge of Steve’s collarbone. 

“Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Steve licked his lips. “I failed on a mission.”

Danny’s pulse jumped. “You _went_ on a mission?” What the hell?

“Not an actual mission, a training one.” Steve sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I was KIA.”

It took few seconds for Danny’s heartbeat to return to normal before Steve’s words sank in. “You were killed in a fake mission.”

“Yeah,” Steve said his voice thick. “We train to hone our skills.” Steve swallowed as he struggled for words, his voice quiet. “We’re not supposed to make mistakes.”

Danny’s heart twisted at the raw hurt in Steve’s tone, the disappointment that leeched away the exuberance and energy that was pure McGarrett. “Last time I checked you are a human being and humans makes mistakes, babe.”

Steve growled, his face obscured by shadows. “You don’t understand.”

While Danny didn’t quite understand the logic, he was happy that Steve had opened up to him. That was very important to him and a huge step in their relationship, progress made from hard work.

Steve was a tactile person who responded well to touch and physical displays of affection. Danny continued stroking his collarbone. “No, I don’t. Please explain it to me.”

“These drills…they’re different.” Steve stretched out both his arms above his head and sighed. “I even lost another thirty seconds on my latest time.”

“Steve, you’re forty. You’re going to lose seconds in a race.”

“It’s not a _race_ …look, just forget it, okay? We need to sleep. We both have to meet with the DA over the Holland case.”

Steve rolled onto his side. Danny was left to stare at his back, missing the physical contact he was enjoying. Even in the dark, Steve’s body was rigid, but there was no way he would actually talk to Danny, not about physical health realities post gunshot wounds, liver transplants, and radiation poisoning. 

They’d had conversations sure, after doctor visits, quick discussions, but nothing candid, nothing about day-to-day stuff. 

Danny adjusted his pillow and closed his eyes, but he knew he wouldn’t get much rest either, knowing that Steve was hurting, that Steve was starting to show signs from something Danny never thought he could—self doubt. 

***

The Holland case was a pain in the ass, mainly because the court took exception to Five-O's use of their immunity and means. Danny was surprised by the number of arrests that actually stuck throughout the years.

He and Steve spent three days going over reports, reviewing testimony with the DA, and were prepping for their court day on their way to the courthouse, when an SUV almost side-swiped them on the highway, then sped off.

“Sonofabitch,” Steve cursed and floored the accelerator. 

Danny grabbed the door handle and wanted to bang his head against the window. Couldn’t they go a few days without crazy shit happening them to them? “Really?”

Before Steve could respond, Danny heard sirens in the background. Steve flipped on the police scanner in time to hear the dispatcher give an all-points bulletin about a suspect fleeing a bank robbery in a stolen SUV.

Steve white-knuckled the wheel. 

Danny rolled his eyes and checked his seatbelt. "Awesome. I guess I'll let the boys know we’re in pursuit."

“Hold on,” Steve grunted before he gunned the engine even more.

Danny didn’t need the warning. The moment the SUV almost collided with them and took off, it was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Steve’s adrenaline was an overwhelming force and Danny braced for a chase that tested the law of physics.

It only took three minutes before Steve forced the SUV into a parking lot and the suspect took off like a jackrabbit.

***  
Danny hated foot pursuits, but he despised chasing after Steve as he hunted down a suspect even more. 

Sweat poured down Danny’s face as he kept the back of Steve’s t-shirt in view, the blue blob getting smaller as the distance between them grew. Danny was in good shape, but he didn’t run ten miles on the weekend for fun, and Steve had more zip and longer limbs.

Steve disappeared down an alley as he took a sharp right turn.

“Damn it,” Danny cursed. 

He pumped his legs, the impact of his shoes against the concrete jarring his bones. 

As he rounded the corner of the next building, Danny slowed down to control his momentum—and almost crashed into Steve.

“Whoa!” Danny yelped, leaping out of the way to avoid barreling over him. Pulling his weapon as precaution, he searched the alley. “Where is he?” he demanded, trying to catch his breath.

Steve wiped at the perspiration rolling down his flushed face. “I lost him.”

Drawing a deep breath, Danny tried to slow his racing heart. “Okay. I’ll call it in and give HPD the guy’s last whereabouts.” He looked around. “Where are we anyway?”

“Between the old post office and those new condos going up on Fifth.” Steve stared down the alleyway, breathing heavy through his nostrils.

Danny dialed his cell phone and gave the dispatcher the info and looked over at Steve who hadn’t budged. “Come on, we left my car parked on the sidewalk.”

Steve either didn’t hear him or was too busy obsessing over the last five minutes of their crazy day. “Seriously, babe. Let’s go.”

Danny touched Steve’s elbow in a gesture he used to try to steer him in his direction. When that didn’t work, he rested a hand on the back of Steve’s shoulder and, gently, guided him away.

***

Danny always thought a lot in bed; it was one of the few times when his brain wasn’t bombarded by stimuli. He and Steve had some of their most important discussions late at night, even after sex. To be truthful, _often_ after sex.

Danny laid under the sheets, his limbs tired and achy in a good way. While he never complained about a quick romp before bed, tonight felt more like an obligation to be fulfilled. 

His boxers were on the floor and he needed to take a quick shower, but he knew communication was the key to a healthy relationship and while this posed a challenge for each of them, it would cause more harm in the long-run if he didn’t speak up. 

“Steve. What’s going on with you?”

Direct was good.

Steve stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t know.”

The fact that Steve didn’t debate him was cause for concern. Steve never liked admitting to his vulnerabilities—no one did—but he also matched Danny’s tenacity for arguing. The lack of fight was worrisome. 

Danny propped up on his elbow and looked over at him. “You’ve been in a bad mood for days.”

“I….” Steve squirmed. “I know.”

Leaning over, Danny kissed his cheek. “Talk to me.”

“I lost the suspect today.”

Danny had anticipated that answer. “The twenty-two-year-old hyped up on meth? Yeah, you lost him in a foot chase. Kid almost suffered a heart attack by the time HPD caught up with him. I doubt even Usain Bolt could have caught him.”

Steve didn’t comment, and Danny would normally chalk things up to an early mid-life crisis. But the issue was more complex than a man used to peak physical shape beginning to show signs of decades of wear and tear. It was a combination of recent health scares and years of psychological training that mistakes were failures, and that was totally unacceptable to Danny.

But telling Steve that he would’ve probably kept-up with any twenty-two-year-old if he wasn’t hyped up on stimulants wouldn’t get much traction, nor would reminding him of the number of death-defying feats he pulled off on a monthly basis.

“Is this about your last reserve duty?” Danny asked.

“What? Why?”

Danny lay on his side, still facing Steve. “Because I have skills of observation and you’ve been depressed since last week. And today you lost a suspect that you deemed beneath your skill level and I’m sensing that it’s had some cumulative effect.” Steve didn’t response with a rebuttal, so Danny knew he was on the right track. “You’re having an off week, but you’re still my super-ninja who drives me crazy.”

“My conditioning…it’s not what it used to be.”

“Less than two years ago you were shot three times….” Danny sucked in a breath, his heart thumping against his breastbone. “One of those bullets tore your liver to pieces. You recovered from a transplant, returned to work, and your normal physical routine within three months. If that doesn’t prove that you have amazing physical conditioning, I don’t know what will.”

Steve bit his lower lip, his facial muscles strained, his fingers balling into a fist. But he didn’t say a word and didn’t engage further in the conversation. 

Danny didn’t know what to say to Steve to make him feel better. Using valid arguments with a guy who often challenged life’s basic concepts was fruitless. But suggesting a different exercise regimen or some new gym seemed condescending. 

“Babe….”

“Danny, look, I’m sorry. I’m…I’m being an ass and I shouldn’t be….” Steve pulled the sheets up and over his chest. “I’m not good company. I’m...I’m not good about anything right now. Just…I’m going to sleep. I’m sorry.”

Danny didn’t always have all the answers. Sometimes it took time, which wasn’t necessarily effective when dealing with those who responded better to sit-reps.

Hmmm. 

***

Danny stood in front of the door to a Cape Cod-style house with pretty good-sized yard for Hawaii. The jeep outside indicated that his subject was home, but he still felt out of place, even thought he had called ahead. He knocked three times and waited.

The door swung open and Colonel Wade Gutches, the SEAL who helped Steve out on occasion and took part of several rescue missions, stared back at him. He wore a faded grey t-shirt and shorts, his expression stony. “How can I help you, Detective?”

Gutches was a to-the-point kind of person, so Danny didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “I need help with Steve. I mean, I need help getting his mojo back,” he added, so as not to make the other man think Steve was in danger.

“Isn’t that your wheelhouse?” Gutches asked with a raised eyebrow.

Danny cleared his throat, because this was already off to a rocky start. “I mean his _SEAL_ mojo. He didn’t do so well during his last reserve drill, and he’s got in his head that he’s slipping or getting old or something.” Danny started gesturing to emphasize his point. “And I want to help motivate him.”

“Again, your wheelhouse.”

Danny grit his teeth and Gutches still stared. Danny needed advice and while he could have asked Junior, he wasn’t about to undermine Steve by going to someone who looked at Steve as a mentor.

“No, see, I know he responds to challenge and drill instructors, that type of stuff. And I want to, you know, make him…do training.”

Gutches considered Danny a moment and crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you have access to things like a submarine?”

“Not the last time I checked.”

“Because six months ago, one of my teams practiced being launched out of a torpedo shaft so they could conduct reconnaissance of a near-by destroyer without detection.”

Danny sucked on his bottom lip and nodded. “I was thinking more like prepping him for that SEAL test? The one used to get into BUD/s? He’d done that after recovering from an injury before.” Steve responded well to goals. 

Gutches rolled his eyes. “Conducting that test ain’t gonna motivate McGarrett.”

“Well, I don’t have access to top-secret weapons.” Danny knew how much Steve enjoyed testing out new equipment that would certainly get his blood going. “But it’s my understanding that Steve doesn’t train with the Navy’s newest toys anymore.” He knew at least that much, recalling the day a few years ago when Steve mentioned reading a report about some new night vision gear and being grumpy about not being allowed to test it.

“McGarrett doesn’t have much of a chance at being recalled to active duty given the length of his reserve duty. Uncle Sam’s not going to waste time letting him test stuff from DARPA.” Gutches leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. “But he still trains for high-level missions designed to keep his skills sharp.”

Everything Gutches just said was an oxymoron. “Why does the Navy go through all that trouble?” And money. “I mean, it’s just the reserves.”

“Because of McGarrett’s jacket,” Gutches said with pride. “Given the current strain on Special Forces in the last few years, our units are stretched thin. Steve trains with a rotating group of active and inactive personnel because of his breadth of experience.”

Danny’s eyebrows rose upon hearing that piece of info. “Are you kidding me?”

“It’s voluntary and not all the time. Hell, some months his drills are a cakewalk.” Gutches studied Danny for a long moment. “What is it that you really want?”

All Danny wanted was the zeal for life to return to Steve’s eyes and his insane level of confidence to reappear in his gait. “I want to be his partner in every sense of the word. And this duty, it’s important to him. I want to understand it more to help him. I think it could help him overcome some recent challenges.”

“I have a few documentaries I can recommend.”

“That’s not enough.”

Gutches snorted and shook his head. “You can’t learn how to train a member of the military in your spare time, Detective.”

“I’m not asking you to teach me how to train Steve,” Danny said, inching closer to the other man. “I want to know how to motivate a SEAL.”

***

Danny sat on the sofa back at the house after talking with Gutches, turning over all the thoughts in his head. The conversation had lasted over an hour, giving Danny plenty to contemplate. 

_“I could talk about what motives a special operator,” Gutches had begun. “But what you really need to focus on is what motives Steve? What’s in his DNA? Chip away the armor and you’ll discover what’s at the man’s core and I bet has always been there.”_

Danny took in the walls of Steve’s family home, pictures of ships, nautical equipment and old file boxes. Even after Danny had moved in and they had updated the interiors with fresh paint, artwork, and some of touches like new curtains. But the house still screamed— _Steve_. Or his dad.

Exhaling, he got up and wandered toward the bookshelf and scanned the contents. 

_We Die Alone: A WWII Epic of Escape and Endurance._ Not surprising. Danny looked at the book next to it. _The Book of Five Rings._ Stuff on strategy, nice light reading material. 

He continued scanning. _Grain Brain: The Surprising Truth about Wheat, Carbs, and Sugar—Your Brain's Silent Killers._ Danny rolled his eyes. 

_War and Peace_

_A Short History of Nearly Everything_

_Perception, Cognition, and Decision Training: The Quiet Eye in Act._ “Sniper tactics. I bet Steve gave Kono a copy,” Danny muttered.

_Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption_

_How to Shoot Like a Navy SEAL: Combat Marksmanship Fundamentals_

_Fermat's Enigma: The Epic Quest to Solve the World's Greatest Mathematical Problem._ Danny smiled; Steve really was a geek inside and out. 

He studied the bottom shelf of volumes and volumes on WWII and naval vessels, so many books on ships, and ship making, histories of certain ships. _Sea Wolves, US Navy Light Cruisers 1941-1945. Battleship Builders._

“Damn, Steve, maybe you should have built them instead of serving on them,” he laughed.

Tracing a finger over the spine of a very well-worn book, a sad fondness filled Danny’s heart. He really wished Steve felt like he could share this passion with him, it was obviously something Steve enjoyed a lot, but didn’t discuss much with him. 

Maybe he could take Steve to a museum, but Danny struck down the idea as soon as it entered his head. Steve could probably lead the tour, but it wasn’t exactly stimulating stuff. Nibbling on his bottom lip, Danny wandered into Steve’s office, poking at some of the file boxes until he discovered one filled with old school stuff. Interesting. 

Steve would be at the governor's office all day. Maybe he’d have a look-see. 

Danny pulled out a leather cover protector lined with silk with the Naval Academy seal embossed on the front. With great care, he opened and read it. 

Steve had a Bachelor of Science degree in Ocean Engineering. His lips curved into a grin, of course. 

Now Danny wanted to know more.

***

Danny joined Steve on one of his runs over the weekend. At least it was still early morning and the sun wasn’t beating down on his head. It was nice to stretch his legs and get his blood flowing, even if Steve kept looking over his shoulder at him with an odd expression.

“What?” Danny asked between breaths.

Steve squinted at him in suspicion. “Still…not sure what you’re up to.”

“It’s called exercise.”

“Yeah, that’s what I mean.”

Danny swerved to avoid a pothole in the road. “I work-out three times a week with you at the gym.”

“But you never run with me.” Steve kept a steady stride, his breathing rapid and even.

“It’s a nice morning.”

It was also a nice view. Danny took every opportunity to enjoy the play and flex of Steve’s tanned, inked arms, the stretch of his legs, and the way the sweat slipped down his face. His black shorts and sleeveless gray navy shirt left little to the imagination.

Steve eventually noticed because the next time he looked over at Danny, he grinned.

“So,” Danny begun between gulps of oxygen. “I saw that there’s this scuba race happening next month….”

“A scuba what?”

“Scuba racing, where scuba divers use one of those underwater scooters, and they, um, race.”

Steve started to slow down, his face wrinkled in confusion. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it. It’s some new sport fad for tourists.”

“Sounds like you could teach them a thing or two.”

Steve kicked it up a notch. “I’d rather go spear fishing with Junior.”

Danny increased his pace, rounding the curve in the road, running in unison with Steve. “Come on, it’s diving and racing, what’s not to love?”

“My self-respect.”

Steve amped up his speed even more and took off. Danny wasn’t about to give chase, instead he slowed down, and watched Steve try to outrace himself. 

He scratched scuba racing off the list.

***  
Danny tapped a brochure against his knee as he reclined in his leather chair inside his office. It’d been two weeks since Steve’s reserve duty and his mood hadn’t improved. He was still grouchy and even declined an invitation from a local dojo to demonstrate defensive hand-to-hand techniques to a class.

Casting his gaze toward the window, he looked at Steve’s office. Danny knew Steve was probably playing one of his Flight Sims on his laptop. They hadn’t caught a case in a week, forcing the whole team to catch-up on paperwork. And Steve had withdrawn even more; he hadn’t even conducted his weekly target practice with the SWAT boys.

Knowing if he didn’t get up and go to Steve, the man would play flight Sims all day until it was time to go home.

“I’m a saint,” Danny muttered to himself.

Getting up, he entered Steve’s office, and tossed the brochure onto this desk.

Steve picked up the pamphlet and read it. “This is information about the 2018 Sniper School Competition at Fort Benning.”

“Yes, it is,” Danny said, bouncing on his feet. “Open to the US and international military, including law enforcement. I thought we could turn it into a mini-vacation.” Even though going to Georgia wasn’t on his list of places to visit. 

Steve flipped through the brochure again with a frown. “This is for identifying some of the best snipers in the world.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t fall into that category.”

“Says who?”

“Says my marksmanship, at least compared to these men and women,” Steve said, waving at the brochure.

Danny shook his head, because seriously? “You’re a SEAL. I think that qualifies you.”

“Not at this level. If anyone, maybe Kono. We could call her and see if she wants to take a break from her taskforce.”

“And who mentored her?” Danny pressed because Steve was a freaking artist behind a weapon; he trained under the best.

Steve leaned back in his chair, his whole body slumping deeper into the leather. “Thank you, but I think I’ll pass.”

“You can hit a target from 400 yards away, Steven.” The number of people in the world who could shoot a target from that distance numbered only in the thousands. 

“The governor would never approve of such an expense.”

“She would if you asked her,” Danny challenged.

Steve flicked his eyes toward Danny and for a split second, he saw that familiar drive, a burning desire – but then it quickly faded. “We can’t afford to take the time off right now.”

The phone rang, ending the conversation before Danny could argue his point more. Steve picked it up on the second ring, and then straightened to attention when he acknowledged the governor. 

Whatever momentum Danny had going died as Steve began to take notes about an upcoming issue.

***

Normally Danny ignored Steve’s cell phone if it was left unattended, but Steve left it on his desk while he went downstairs to check with Jerry on something. He answered it.

When Steve returned to grab a file, he stared at him in confusion. “What?”

Maybe Danny was sitting on his sofa waiting for him. No big deal. “Dr. Iona’s office called to confirm you canceled your appointment for next week?”

“Yeah.”

“Was there any particular reason?”

Steve crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Because it was on the same day as our therapy session.”

“But one is in the morning and one in the afternoon.”

“I’m not spending all day Thursday in waiting rooms and doctor offices.”

Danny counted to three to keep his tone even. “Our therapy appointment is only for an hour and your check-up is only thirty minutes.”

Steve glared at the cell phone where Danny had left it on the desk and marched over to grab it. Shoving it in his pocket he looked over at Danny in weariness. “I just wanted to split them up.”

Danny knew better to say that he knew how Steve felt, because he didn’t. “Your three-month check-ups are important.”

“No one is more aware of that than me, Danny.”

“I’m sorry. I know you hate going to them, but Dr. Iona said if everything looked good this time, you wouldn’t need to see him until next year.”

They had reached that milestone last summer, going from three-month check-ups to annual appointments, less worrying over looming physicals every few months, but then some assholes created a dirty bomb and the clock had been re-set.

“I’m not avoiding things,” Steve grit out. 

“And I believe you.” 

“It’s two weeks from now.”

“And we’ll go out for lunch afterward to that Thai place you love so much.”

“Okay,” Steve said nodding. “Good.”

“Great,” Danny replied and reminded himself to mark it on the calendar.

***  
Danny cherished his time with Grace, knowing each day she grew a little older and closer to moving out to start her own life. He relished every moment with her, even if it meant spending his Sunday picking up litter off the beach.

At least he got to pierce things with his long poker. Danny looked over at Steve who was several meters away, stabbing each piece of garbage like it was about to attack him. 

“You don’t look happy,” Grace said, picking up a plastic bottle with one of her gloved hands.

“That’s where you’re wrong; I’m the happiest man in the world.”

“You know it’s good to give back to nature, Danno.”

Danny stuck a sandwich wrapped with his poker. “Yes, yes, it is.” He also preferred sleeping in and early morning blowjobs, but he didn’t express that out loud to his daughter. 

“If we don’t take care of the land, it won’t take care of us. It is a reciprocal relationship.”

“Reciprocal, wow, listen to those million-dollar words.”

Grace stopped walking and looked up at Danny liked he’d said he wanted to hunt puppies for sport. “Don’t you want to make sure all the sea turtles are safe?”

Danny didn’t know how this became such a serious discussion, and how did the topics of turtles come up? “Of course, we should do what’s best for everyone.”

“My teacher belongs to a sea turtle rescue group and says that many of them are getting sick because of oil spills. Isn’t it illegal to dump oil into the ocean?”

“Yes, it is, but I don’t know where there could be a –“

“Dr. Kaiwi said he thinks it’s from one of the oil rigs that just got bought by that new energy company a few months ago.”

“Oh, did he now? Did he witness it, too?”

“No, but his rescue group tested the water near the oil rig and it was filled with illegal chemicals. He reported it to the police, but he said they didn’t do anything.” Grace pressed her lips together in displeasure, managing to sound both disappointed and challenging. “Why didn’t the police do anything?”

“I’m sure they….”

“Dr. Kaiwi says they don’t. Maybe you and Uncle Steve could do something about it?”

“Do something about what?” Steve asked, walking over.

“About the oil rig dumping chemicals into the ocean and killing all the turtles,” Grace told Steve in a high-pitched voice.

“Honey,” Danny started to say, but he saw a flare of anger in Steve’s eyes at the mention of possible animal endangerment. Danny changed his mind about begging off and looked at Steve in consideration. “What do you think? Could we spare some time on Monday and look into it? Grace says her teacher has evidence of a rig illegally leaking stuff into the ocean.”

“Do we know which one?” Steve asked.

“I’m not sure,” Grace said with a frown. “Dr. Kaiwi said it was off West Oahu.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest as he spoke to Grace. “And your teacher said this spill injured the sea turtle population?

“Dr. Kaiwi says the turtles can hold their breath when they dive under the water, but when they return to the surface they get stuck in the oil slicks.”

Hands on his hips, Steve looked over at the lapping waves, his eye narrowing in a way that would scare most people. “Don’t worry, Gracie. Your dad and I will look into it. I promise.”

For the first time in a month, Danny recognized a quiet furor in Steve’s words, a simmering passion stirring to the surface. Maybe this could stoke the dormant embers inside Steve and create a spark that had been missing for weeks.  
***


	2. Chapter 2

***

On Monday, Danny and Steve had visited Dr. Kaiwi for over an hour and brought everything back to the team to review. Steve paced beside the surface table while Danny went over their notes. Junior and Tani studied the lab report that Dr. Kaiwi provided during his interview.

“Those are very high levels of petroleum,” Junior said, reading the measurements from the overhead screen.

“It gets better,” Danny said, bringing up the next slide. “Another member of Dr. Kaiwi’s rescue team is a professional diver. Five days ago, he took footage of what looks like a large, steady stream of oil coming from the rig.”

“How far away was he?” Junior asked.

“About half a mile,” Danny answered.

“That looks like pretty concrete evidence,” Tani said.

“These types of violations are under federal jurisdiction so HPD punted it,” Steve explained obviously peeved. “But the feds haven’t done anything because the rules and regulations regarding environmental criminal activity are vague.”

Tani stood closer to the screen and waved her hand at the report on the chemical breakdown of the water. “This isn’t enough for an investigation?”

“The feds said they needed proof of the oil leaking from one of the pipes and with _malicious intent of dumping_ ,” Steve said, emphasizing the last part with air quotes. 

“Do we have any way to get the needed evidence?” Junior asked.

“It would require a camera mounted on a remotely operated vehicle like an unmanned submarine.” Tani quirked an eyebrow at Steve and he shook his head. 

“I can’t get my hands on one of those, and even if I did, the operators of the rig could counter by saying any oil released was accidental.”

“What do we know about the company?” Junior continued with his line of questions.

“Baylor Oil & Gas bought the rig from BP a few months ago.” Danny brought up the public records of the company onto the screen. “They’re a private company with only five rigs in the Pacific. They’ve been granted a temporary permit from the government to operate in island waters until they finish negotiating a six-year contract.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest his hands gripping his biceps. “Any violation of the Clean Water Act could torpedo the contract.” 

Tani looked at Steve then Danny. “What’s our next move?”

“If we need solid evidence, I think Steve and I should go undercover on the rig.”

Both of Tani’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

Even Steve looked at Danny in question, and the fact Steve hadn’t jumped all over the idea or suggested it first was what pushed Danny. He needed to stoke the fires. “We need solid evidence of dumping and we need to prove illegal intent.”

“It could be an isolated incident,” Junior suggested although his tone of voice spoke otherwise.

Steve shook his head and renewed his pacing; he was agitated and angry. “The sea turtle deaths began three weeks ago. Then last Sunday while Danny and I were clearing one of the beaches, another environmental group took in twenty-five more sick turtles. When marine biologists examined them, they discovered oil lining the inside of their throats.”

Steve stilled his circuit in front of the table; he bounced his fist against the side of his thigh. This incident was definably getting under his skin. Steve was a protector, and he had a deep love for Hawaii and all of her creatures.

“Do you have any ideas for your covers?” Junior asked, breaking the silence that had settled. “It’s not like you can fake the skills to work on an oil rig.”

“Steve?” Danny pressed, because this was the man’s forte. Steve thrived on spontaneous decisions and leaps of logic. 

Pursing his lips, Steve seemed to gather his thoughts. “I could pose as a member of JOAP, the navy’s Joint Oil Analysis Program. Maybe we could go to conduct an inspection….”

“Wouldn’t that make them cover-up any illegal activity?” Tani asked.

“Not if it was a surprise inspection.” Steve looked over at them. “And it would grant us the needed access,” he said with a familiar edge of authority. 

“And Danny?” Junior asked.

Danny was caught off guard for a moment and it was _his idea._ He hadn’t thought that far ahead and now he wasn’t sure, working on an oil rig could be rough. Fuck.

“He could be a technician,” Steve said without missing a beat. “JOAP uses a lot of equipment; I could teach Danny the basics.”

“I could go with you, sir,” Junior volunteered. 

Steve shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll take Danny with me. I need you and Tani to dig into Baylor Oil & Gas.”

Junior was probably more qualified to go under cover on an oil rig, but Danny and Steve were partners. Danny nodded at Steve, knowing they would be up late the next few nights prepping for this assignment. 

“Oil rigs are pretty dangerous places.” Junior brought up images of giant platforms filled with machinery in the middle of the ocean. “If you two get into any trouble, we won’t be able to back you up.”

Steve worked his jaw back and forth. “We’ll be fine.”

For a split second, Danny wanted to punch Steve in the arm for jinxing them, but it was nice to see his determination return, so he bit his tongue.

***

Danny sat in his office reading about life on an oil rig.

_If you want to be a part of a team of professionals, here are your choices within the oil rig hierarchy:_

_1.Rig Manager_  
_2.Driller_  
_3\. Derrick hand_  
_4.Motor hand_  
_5.Roughneck_  
_6.Roustabout_

_The tasks that a roughneck or a roustabout must perform allow the specialists to do their job better, including extracting the petroleum. You will need to move equipment, paint, do maintenance and cleaning work or clean the pipelines from rust deposits. Usually, for every crew on the rig there are two roughnecks or roustabouts who need to perform hard tasks daily._

“Sounds like fun,” Danny mumbled under his breath.

He heard a knock on his window and saw Tani standing there. 

Danny gestured for her to come inside. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, just checking in on you.”

“Is that right?” Danny thought Tani needed to improve her skills of deception. “You’re a better liar than that.”

“Okay,” Tani said with a slight grin. “I just wanted to congratulate you on a ballsy gambit with the boss.”

“Oh?”

“He hasn’t exactly been firing on all cylinders in the mood department lately. I think a nice romantic getaway on a dirty, loud floating platform drilling into the ocean is just what the doctor ordered.”

“Thanks for that mental image.” Because Danny wasn’t exactly thrilled at the amount of job hazards associated with drilling through rock and pumping out mud and natural gas. 

Tani sat in the chair across from Danny’s desk and looked over at Danny in all seriousness. “McGarrett needs to be on the ocean surrounded by things that might explode. It’ll do him good.”

“It’s to save the turtles.”

“Dude, from what little time I’ve spent with the guy, believe me, I don’t discount what Steve would be willing to do to protect marine life.”

Danny was counting on some typical Steve McGarrett tenacity during the case. 

***

After several hard-fought years, Danny had learned to tolerate the sound of the ocean, or at least find it relaxing instead of grating. Steve lived half his life in the water, so Danny didn’t mind relaxing in one of the chairs on the lanai while Steve took a swim. It gave him a chance to review the manual on the oil analysis equipment Steve had showed him how to use.

After scanning the material for a while, Danny tossed the instructions down onto the ground with a sigh as Steve walked toward him. Why did he make this suggestion? 

Steve dried off with a big fluffy towel, beads of water dripped from his hair and onto his face and down the muscles of his chest. Danny caught himself gazing in appreciation as Steve stood staring at the waves, oblivious.

“I’m kind of objectifying you right now, just so you know.”

“Hmmm?” Steve said turning around. “What did you say?”

Danny rolled his eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” Steve gave Danny a sheepish look, ducking his head. “I was thinking about the Honu.”

“You were thinking about the turtles.” The idea shouldn’t surprise Danny; nature always brought out Steve’s marshmallow side. “Did you see one?”

“No, they don’t use these waters. But I remembered the first time I saw one with my dad.” Steve grinned in memory as he sat down, his eyes always lit up when he spoke about spending time with his father. “We went early in the morning before they arrived to lay their eggs. We stayed a respectful distance of course, but it was surreal to watch them come in during low tide.”

“They’re protected by Endangered Species Act, yeah?”

Steve exhaled heavily his smile disappearing behind grim lines. “We’re the ones who’ve poached and killed their habitants, yet it’s up to us to keep them from dying out.” Looking over at the beach, he nodded at the water. “Did you know they’re excellent navigators? Legend says a green sea turtle guided the first Polynesian settlers to the islands.”

It was difficult not to get swept up by Steve’s awe and enthusiasm for island culture. For someone who grew up feeling like an outsider, Steve embraced his adopted heritage, willing to do anything to safeguard it. Hawaii had become Danny’s home as well, slowly, but surely—and he would continue to do his part to protect it.

Feeling a warm tingle inside his belly, Danny leaned over and wrapped an arm around Steve’s shoulder. “Well, this will be part of our small way of giving back.” 

Steve turned his head and looked at Danny in with appreciation, but instead of enjoying some making-out time in the sand, Steve tensed-up, his gaze becoming pitched. “We’re going to need to be on alert at all times the moment we step on that rig.”

“I’m not going there to work on my tan.”

“Danny, I’m serious,” Steve said.

This was more than mission prep or recent paranoia about his capabilities. Danny let go of Steve’s shoulder and listened. 

“You sound like you’re talking from experience?” 

Steve didn’t answer, but Danny recognized it when Steve fought against painful or stressful memories.

He also did his homework. Danny had conducted research into SEALs when Steve had conscripted him as his partner. Over the years he tried to learn what he could in order to understand Steve better, but the last few weeks he’d dug deeper, reading, watching documentaries. “Oil rigs represent high-value targets, either from pirates taking hostages or terrorists determined to blow-up a five hundred-million-dollar operation.”

Steve’s mouth hung-open, clearly taken aback, it was rare to see him at a loss for words. Danny knew his hunch was right. “I take it something bad happened on a rig you can’t talk about, and whatever it was required a stealth approach, so you must’ve had to swim a long distance under the cover of night….”

Steve continued staring at Danny in surprise, his eyebrow furrowed. It was a cute. “I can’t go into details.”

Steve was tight-lipped about his missions and sometimes Danny provoked him into being defensive, but not today. “But you’ve been on board one before,” he said, encouraging. 

“I’ve been on two, one for training and the other for the real deal.”

“Not exactly a tourist’s spot,” Danny deadpanned. 

“No, and arriving in the middle of ongoing operation will be extremely hazardous.” His eyes darted toward Danny, his voice gruff. “It’s dangerous.”

“Are you having second thoughts?” Because Danny couldn’t help it: he was having them.

“No,” Steve said, shaking his head, but there had been a pause, a beat of hesitancy. “We’ll go to Pearl-Hickman in the morning for supplies before heading the platform in the afternoon.”

Which meant Danny would spend all the night wondering if this was a really bad, bad decision. 

**

They flew to the rig by chopper. Steve piloted, and Danny tried not to fidget. Steve loved flying, but Danny still had nightmares about bullets ripping through a plane’s fuselage and into Steve’s body. He hated being in the air now and breathed in and out in a regular rhythm like his therapist taught him.

He peered through the front window as they approached the platform. The oil rig was a colossal mass of steel floating in the open ocean. All sides of the structure dripped with cranes and platforms. It defied logic that thousands of tons of metal could float at all. Danny knew it was simple physics. The rig’s weight pushed downward, and the displaced water pushed it back up to keep it afloat.

It still freaked him the fuck out. 

And it didn’t help his nerves that Steve began arguing with someone over the radio.

_“Unauthorized aircraft, I repeat, your do not have permission to land. Turn away now.”_

“This is Lt. Commander McGarrett with the U.S Navy. I have been authorized by Captain Holland of the Defense Department to board your rig.”

After a little more back and forth and Steve’s defiance, they were finally granted permission to land. 

Steve turned his head toward Danny and spoke to him through their coms. “And just in case anyone asks, we’re supposed to have water survival and helicopter crash training before boarding.”

“Awesome. I’m glad one of us is qualified.”

But Steve’s voice was thick with enthusiasm and Danny clamped down on the anxiety gripping his chest and the nausea associated with the motion of being inside a damn helicopter.

***

Danny was a realist; he knew they were not going to be greeted by the welcome wagon. 

Around eighty people worked on this rig. Most were employed by the rig contractor and a few by the oil company to supervise and direct operations, and supposedly ensure everything was done safely and in compliance with the law. 

After they landed, he and Steve exited the chopper and walked to where people waited for them at the edge of the helideck. Danny adjusted the collar of his borrowed military fatigues. He’d been around enough members of the military to play the part and happily accepted Steve’s advice to be at a lower rank, so most questions would be directed at Steve. 

The three men waiting wore blue, dumpy, flame-retardant coveralls and yellow hard hats, their hostility palpable. 

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing aboard my rig?” the first guy snapped.

He must have been the boss, or the drill pusher, the big guy with a billion-dollar operation on his shoulders. 

“I’m Lt. Commander Steve McGarrett and this is Petty Officer First Class Danny Williams.” Steve pulled out an envelope from his front pocket and handed it to the guy in charge. “These are orders from Captain Brink of Pearl-Hickman to analyze the oil and other fluids used to operate the equipment of this rig.”

“Bullshit.”

“And to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?” Steve asked without batting an eye.

“Gale Reinhardt. I’m the rig manager and I’ve been busting ass on platforms for over twenty years. I’ve never seen or heard of a damned Navy inspection of rig equipment.”

Reinhardt might have been in his early fifties, it was hard to tell. He was a big guy, tall and heavy-set with a booming voice. 

Steve wasn’t fazed one bit by the attitude. “Well, times change, sir.”

Steve rubbed people the wrong way; it was a gift. Reinhardt’s nostrils flared and he looked ready to get into Steve’s personal space.

“Gale, hold on a sec.” The second guy raised his arm like a barrier between Reinhardt and Steve. “I’m Hank Pullman, the Chief Mate and maintenance supervisor. What is it that you need to test?”

Pullman was a bit younger than his hard-ass boss. He was broader and heavier and sweating profusely under his hard hat.

“We need to monitor for oil wet air and any lubricant break-down that could lead to equipment failures and damage to secondary systems,” Steve rattled off like it’d been his career for years. 

Danny secretly beamed.

“You got to be kidding me,” Reinhardt huffed. 

“I’m sorry,” Pullman said, running interference again. “But why would the Navy send a Lt. Commander to do such a job, with all due respect.”

“I oversee the analysis of thousands of tons of equipment used on aircraft carriers to naval destroyers. While analyzing if the exposure of metal particles in fluids lubricating mechanical equipment isn’t sexy—it prevents hundreds of accidents and grisly deaths a year.” Steve crossed his arms and oozed condescension. “If you want to get that precious contract from the State of Hawaii, you’ll let me and PO Williams do our jobs.”

Danny never thought he’d love hearing Steve spout off about engines and equipment, but his gung-ho, fuck you attitude was a god damned turn-on. He had to bite his lip to keep his body perfectly still while every freaking part of him wanted to lick the electric charge of energy that flowed from Steve’s veins and through his words.

Reinhardt bristled with annoyance; he was obviously used to giving orders. “You will wear safety glasses, gloves, ear protection, and hard hats at all times above deck. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Steve really was an asshole; he didn’t need to smirk to show he was enjoying things.

“Hank, inspect their gear,” Reinhardt ordered. 

“Um, excuse me?” Danny asked. Because hello, he and Steve were the ones who subjected others to searches; it was both a tool and a form of intimation. 

“This is a hazardous work environment,” Pullman explained. “We have to inspect everything that comes on board per rig regulations.”

Pullman went toward the chopper and Danny started to follow him. Reinhardt stepped in front of Danny which of course triggered Steve’s protective streak as he started moving toward Reinhardt.

A third rig worker who hadn’t spoken a word, moved behind Steve. Danny clenched his jaw, every instinct telling him intercede, to protect his partner. Steve’s shoulders bunched, but he remained steadfast cool. 

Danny noticed three more rig workers had joined their little party and remained a few feet away. But there was no physical contact and no one laid a hand on anyone else—they weren’t apes who needed to beat on their chests.

Pullman pulled out both Steve and Danny’s duffels and rifled through them. Steve remained rooted in place, eyes flicking between their gear and Reinhardt, who hadn’t budged an inch from his spot next to Steve.

The rig worker who stood behind Steve backed a few steps, the act releasing some of the tension. 

After inspecting their stuff, Pullman walked over. “Due to the risk of flammable gas coming up the oil well, normal electronics are banned outside living quarters. The cameras I found are strictly forbidden.”

“Fair enough,” Steve said.

“This also includes your smart phones,” Pullman said.

Danny couldn’t believe his ears, but he didn’t argue. 

“And you’ll leave your weapons with Chief Mate Pullman,” Reinhardt announced. “He’ll keep them locked up in a secured place.”

“I will not surrender my weapon,” Steve growled.

“Then you can go back in your chopper and leave.”

God, Reinhardt had Steve’s number, it wasn’t hard to deduce that Steve did not respond well to being challenged. 

“Commander, my job is the safety of everyone aboard this platform; I cannot allow any weapons above or below deck.” Pullman held up his hands in a placating manner. “It would be against my duty as Chief Mate. Please understand.”

It took ten very long seconds before Steve ended his stare down with Reinhardt and gave his attention to Pullman. “I’ll require access in an emergency.”

“Of course.” Pullman almost sagged in relief. “I’ll provide that to you once you and Petty Officer Williams are settled.”

“You encounter a lot of situations where you need to draw your weapon studying drops of oil, huh?” Reinhardt didn’t wait for a response and turned his attention to his right-hand man. “Keep them out of everyone’s way, Hank.”

“Yes, sir.” Pullman looked over at the other rig worker who still hung around. “Shane, why don’t you begin work cataloguing the latest supplies from yesterday? I’ll meet you when I get done with these gentlemen.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” Shane tipped his hard hat and nodded at Steve and Danny. 

It was the closest thing to an, ‘I’m sorry that we all acted like a bunch of idiots’ they were going to get.

Pullman rubbed at the sweat and grease across his forehead. Between all the steel and heat emanating from the rig, it was hot as hell on the helideck. “How long do you think you’ll need to be here?”

“It depends,” Steve said with a shrug. “A day or two.”

“Alright, I’ll take you below deck and find you a place to drop off your stuff. Then I’ll escort you where you need to go.”

“Thanks,” Steve grit out before grabbing his duffle bag.

Danny snagged the strap to his and slung it over his shoulder. Pullman led them away. 

Danny allowed enough distance to fall before leaning toward Steve’s ear. “Well, that went as well as I expected.”

Steve grunted.

Despite all the dick-swinging, Danny still believed they could gather what was needed and hopefully finish everything in a few hours. 

***

The rig was thirty stories high and tethered to the seafloor by thick pipes. While the platform floated, it didn’t sway, thank god. Walking on it felt as solid as being on real land, but that didn’t alleviate Danny’s anxiety when he looked down through the metal grate beneath his feet to see the bright blue of the Pacific below.

 _No, no, just look straight ahead._ He was surrounded by metal and steel painted bright yellow; it made his brain scream _caution_ , so the psychology behind the color worked. The ocean breeze was nice; it almost helped with all the heat.

He lugged a duffle of personal effects and equipment as he made his way down ten million metal stairs. Hearing Steve huffing for air in front of him made Danny feel better, because after the fifth flight, his heart pounded from the exertion.

For a heavier guy, Pullman didn’t seem that bothered by the effort, leading them below deck where it wasn’t so damn hot. A blast of cold air hit Danny’s sticky face as soon as they entered the corridor.

Pullman glanced over at Danny and smiled. “Kind of like night and day, isn’t?”

“Yeah, a big construction zone above deck and your typical office environment below.”

“Well, you won’t wibble out as much down here.”

Danny didn’t understand the term, so he nodded along. 

“We haven’t been at sea for a while and mostly on skimmers,” Steve said. “Our assignments only last a day or a week at most.”

“Copy that,” Pullman said, bringing them to a door at the end of a hallway. “It ain’t the Four Seasons, but it’s better than your average rack.”

“Anything’s better than being inside a boomer,” Steve snorted.

Danny kept himself from rolling his eyes as both men laughed at one another.

He was pleasantly surprised at the quality of the living quarters; it was the size of a dorm room with a desk, a tiny TV mounted on the wall, and a set of bunk beds. Steve set his bags on the floor and Danny dumped his stuff beside them.

Steve did a quick scan of the room before he looked at Pullman. “Thank you. PO Williams and I will need a few minutes to plan out the day.”

“There’s a two-way radio in the desk, you can reach me on channel thirteen. Safety clothes and equipment is located at the other end of the hall. Gear up, then I’ll escort you when you’re ready.”

It was obvious that they were not supposed to go above deck without an escort. That would make poking around a challenge. 

“How about we meet-up at 1200 hours?” Steve suggested.

Pullman gave Steve a mock salute and closed the door behind him.

Danny stretched out his arms and did a little circle; his fingers didn’t touch the walls. “This is cozy.” He glanced at Steve. “You two enjoy talking in code?”

“He was fishing. Pullman’s served or been around enough people that have.”

“Guess I should have studied my sailor talk some more.”

Steve smiled at Danny, bright and beaming. “Now that’s something I never thought I’d hear you say.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“That’s disappointing.” Steve stepped closer and rested his hands on Danny’s shoulders his grin even wider as his eyes traveled down the length of Danny’s chest. “You look good in fatigues.”

Joy was being on the receiving end of a Steve McGarrett gaze of appreciation; it made the hair on the back of Danny’s neck stand up. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist. “Is that your best pick-up line?”

“It’s not a line if it’s true.”

It made Danny’s heart flutter and his throat tighten up all over again. God help him, it made him want to do really ridiculous things, right here, right now. Danny always loved seeing Steve in uniform, the way it accented the lines of his body. 

He ran a finger along the buttons of Steve’s shirt. “Guess it’s a mutual thing.”

Steve stepped forward, grinning, and Danny pulled him closer. Steve opened his mouth, the slide of Steve’s tongue against his own sent tingles down his spine. Steve teased Danny’s bottom lip as he held the back of Danny’s head with his hand while they kissed. Danny gripped Steve’s shirt, curling his fingers into the cotton twill.

Steve’s hands slipped across Danny’s shoulders, pulling him closer, Steve’s muscles warm and solid against his. The kiss intensified and Danny felt himself getting carried away by the energy. He groaned in happiness, enjoying the physical contact, the way Steve’s hands felt on his back, the enthusiastic pleasure Steve took in mapping the inside of Danny’s mouth.

But Steve pulled away just as things were heating up. “We really should, you know….” Steve fumbled for words, his face flushed. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, okay,” Danny said, trying to regain his equilibrium. 

He wasn’t upset; in fact, he was quite the opposite, because they hadn’t been spontaneous in a while and Steve’s enthusiasm was a very good sign. Not to mention Danny was going to find a way to wear these fatigues when they were at home. 

Steve cleared his throat, going from tactile and passionate to cool and controlled. He knelt down and opened one of the black cases of equipment they brought. 

_Okay, so back to work._

“I hid a satellite phone in this, so we can keep Junior and Tani updated,” Steve said, prying open a panel to a black metal device. 

“Have you given any thought on how we’re supposed to find what we need? I spent the last two days learning how to operate equipment and knowing the ins and outs of oil rigs, but I still don’t know how we’re supposed to find physical evidence of illegal activity.” Danny wasn’t even sure what was considered evidence for violating environmental law.

It was obvious that Steve wasn’t a hundred percent sure either given how hard he stared at the wall in thought. “The most accurate way would be if I took a dive under the platform and checked for leaks or –”

“No way in hell,” Danny snapped. Steve was a highly trained diver, but like hell would Danny support such a dangerous idea given the unknown environment. 

“Relax. I said it would be the most accurate way, but it would require detailed preparation and recon of the area.”

Danny felt the tension drain out of him. “Then what?” 

Steve sighed in frustration; it was obvious he didn’t have much of a plan after they gained access onboard. 

They were out of their depth and with little direction, and despite how motivated Steve was to solve this case, the task was daunting. But it never stopped the man before. When faced with a barrier, Steve always found a way to go around or knock it over. He just needed the right nudge.

“This isn’t any different than most recons, right?” Danny asked. “We just need a strategy that’ll work the best in this situation.”

Steve narrowed his eyes in surprise, once again seemingly caught off guard by Danny’s choice of words. 

But mental gears began to turn, and Steve started to pace, nodding to himself. “We need access to maintenance reports and or some sort of daily logs. See if we can find any clues to problems or possible doctoring after the fact.”

“That’s assuming there’s a paper trail.” Danny grimaced, they had very few options. “I guarantee that hard ass would rather throw us overboard than let us snoop around anything incriminating.”

Hell, if there _were_ incriminating reports, someone could be shredding documents right now. They needed to find a way to look at all the paperwork. 

“We’ve infiltrated terrorist organizations, weapons’ rings and drug cartels,” Steve said, re-organizing his gear and closing the metal case. “We should be able to move around on an oil rig.” 

***

Danny found wearing military fatigues to actually to be comfortable and didn’t mind putting on coveralls over them. 

Steve quickly put on his own coveralls, teasing Danny with his flex of muscles. Damn, he really did have a thing for uniforms. 

They exited their quarters and found the utility closet with their safety equipment. Steve handed Danny a hard hat and goggles before they met Pullman at the end of the hall. 

Pullman did a quick check of their safety gear before handing them each a yellow hand-held device.

“What’s this?” Danny asked, taking it.

“What do you mean?” Pullman asked confused.

Danny didn’t know what he was holding, but he schooled his features into a neutral expression.

“We’re used to a wand,” Steve said, grabbing the other one from Pullman. He smacked Danny’s shoulder with it. “Must be nice to have a high-tech model, right?”

Pullman shook his head, amused. “You’d think the Navy would spring for better ones by now.”

“You kidding?” Danny laughed. “Everything we use is manufactured by the lowest bidder.”

Pullman snorted and started walking down the corridor. Danny looked at the device closer, noting the display and realized it was for detecting natural gas. They were on a damn oil rig; would the thing be going off like crazy all the time?

Pullman started to climb the stairs leading topside. “Where do you want to begin?”

“The main drill engine,” Steve answered.

Pullman missed one of the steps and almost fell down in his reaction. Yep, Danny mused, this would go over really well.

***

It was interesting to hear a one-sided argument as Pullman argued over his radio. The fact that Danny could hear Reinhardt curse over the noise of clanking up the stairs only emphasized how pissed-off the guy was.

Steve smirked a few times; Danny was sure he’d get his lights punched out if Pullman noticed.

They exited topside where Danny had to regain his bearings. The rig contained three platforms connected by walkways. They were on the far west platform with the helideck at the end, and they needed to reach the one in the middle where the main drill was located. 

Which meant they had to cross from one platform to the next one…. Once again Danny wondered why he was doing this again.

But he watched Steve as he surveyed his surroundings, noting his focus, the way he exuded confidence, thriving off all the noise and chaos. And Danny knew he was staring at the reason in front of him.

Walking around was an act of hyper-vigilance. He kept out of the way of other workers and hanging metal scaffolding. When they started going across the walkway, Danny made the mistake of glancing down…they were thirty stories high; falling overboard would be certain death. 

There’d be no way to find a body if one fell. Sweat pooled across Danny’s forehead under the hard hat, his hand gripped the railing for comfort. 

By the time they reached the other side of the platform, Danny sent out a little prayer. A large metal container made up his left side and smoke stacks his right. Maybe they should have been given oxygen masks because the air reeked of fuel.

A large crane towered a few hundred feet away as it carried pieces of pipe from a smaller platform below. Before they could continue toward the source of loud whirring noise, Danny noticed Reinhardt marching toward them with the rig worker from earlier and another guy.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and waited; the man really thrived on conflict sometimes. 

Reinhardt pointed at finger at them. “I will not have unauthorized personal near one of the biggest sections of this operation.”

“That makes it the best place to start,” Steve yelled over the vibration of machinery in the background. 

Danny couldn’t tell if Reinhardt’s complexion was flushed from the heat or anger. Pullman moved until he stood between his boss and Steve, holding up both his hands in a calming gesture. Steve stood his ground. 

“Look, Commander,” Pullman began, trying his hardest. “I could show you transmissions, components, any number of gearboxes....”

“We’ll get to that soon enough,” Steve said.

Reinhardt pushed up on his hard hat, stepping closer toward Steve. “We spent three months drilling our exploratory wells, the damn geologists took their sweet time determining how large the deposits were, and we just finished the initial surface hole two weeks ago. Six months of preparation has come to this, in a few days we’ll be able to switch out the main drill bit and begin milking this reservoir….”

“And do you suspect we’ll find something that’ll force us to stop your operation?” Steve demanded.

“No,” Reinhardt growled. “But I’m not allowing someone whose job is testing drops of fluid and ferrying real soldiers who actually fight to get in the way of a multi-billion-dollar operation.”

Danny almost had a stroke. No one disrespected Steve’s military career. 

Steve displayed remarkable restraint, the only sign he was pissed off was his clenched his jaw. He gave Reinhardt a smarmy smile. “Is that the best you got? Because my baby sister could do better.”

Pullman for his part, still tried to play peacemaker. “Commander, I’d be glad to show you any type of fuel pump, or maybe even some blowout preventers….”

“Our work can lead to early detection of harmful conditions that, if not corrected, could promote premature component failure,” Steve said, his voice steel. “I think inspecting the heart of this rig will accomplish these goals. Now that I’m thinking about it, maybe I should begin with the intake valves, it would only require, what? A few hours to reach? Of course, it would take longer to power down and cool off everything enough for a proper –”

“What about all the maintenance cards?” someone asked.

Five heads turned in direction of a young woman who took a step toward them; Danny hadn’t seen her lurking in the background. He wondered how many more workers had been watching all the drama unfold in front of them.

“What about them?” Steve asked, addressing her.

“We have to log our fluid levels, samples of gas emissions and our input and output every day. If your evaluations are about reviewing wear and tear on components, they would give you a detailed record.”

Danny swore he could hear his heart beating inside his head.

“And what about video?” Steve asked, giving her his full attention.

“Video, sir?” she asked.

“There are security cameras mounted everywhere, per safety protocols. I count three from here,” Steve said, gesturing at a few cameras mounted high above them.

Huh, Danny hadn’t notice those.

“Yeah,” she said her face dawning in realization. “I think we keep videos for up to two weeks—”

“If you grant me access to those logs and the video, then that might be acceptable.” 

Steve glanced at Reinhardt and waited on his response….

Reinhardt jabbed a finger into Pullman’s chest. “Do it. Now, keep these squids out of my way or I’ll have you transferred with the next supply shipment.” 

Reinhardt turned around and stalked off before his subordinate could say a word.

“Damn,” one of the other workers said with a low whistle. “Looks like you’re on boss’s shit list.”

Pullman rubbed at his temple. “Shane, dude, not now.”

Shane was one of the guys who had greeted them earlier. He was tall and broad as a tree, most of his bulk hidden by his uniform. He chuckled like a Bull Moose and clamped his other buddy, who had been silent the whole time, on the shoulder. “Come on, Dodger, let’s jet before we get caught in the crossfire.

Dodger grumbled under his breath and followed the other roustabout as they left.

Releasing a long breath, Pullman addressed his female coworker who had remained. “Escort our visitors to what they need.” Then he looked over at Steve and Danny. “I'd like to keep my job, so please just do what you have to, then…go home.”

Danny actually felt sorry for the guy. He looked over at woman who’d rescued them from some odd flashback of playground bullying. “Thanks for the help, Ms.…”

“Kidman, sir.”

Kidman was his height and maybe in her early thirties. Danny noticed freckles dotting her cheeks and wisps of short ginger hair from under her hard hat.

“Well then Ms. Kidman, lead the way,” Steve said with a wave of his arm.

Kidman gave Steve curt nod and began escorting them back toward the walkway.

Following alongside Steve, Danny shot him a grin. “Well played.”

Now they didn’t have to fake their way through testing machinery Danny had never touched in his life. They even struck pay dirt when it came to scoring maintenance records; the video surveillance was a welcome bonus.

Danny allowed himself a moment of glee that they might get what they needed in a shorter amount of time than he ever anticipated. 

***

 

Danny sat in an orange plastic chair and thumbed through a stack of five-by-eight-inch index cards of stuff didn’t understand. It was nice to get rid of the safety goggles and lose the stupid hard hat once they were inside. Below deck was quieter and it didn’t smell like the inside of a gas station. A mild tension headache started to subside from the lack of vibrating machinery. 

He glanced over at Steve who sat in a chair across their little table. He was hunched over studying his own set of cards. Every once in a while, he’d squint, furrowing his brow. Sometimes Danny imagined what Steve would look like in glasses. How the frames would accent his eyes, the little crinkles at the sides, adding that extra air of intelligence and allure. It made Danny’s heart race.

While the idea of glasses appealed to Danny on a sensual level, no doubt the stigma associated with age would have the opposite effect on Steve. 

“Any luck?” he asked.

Steve flipped through several cards of his own stack with a scowl. “No.”

Not a big confidence builder by a long shot. “Can you tell what any of it means?”

“Hmmmm.” Steve stared at the one in his hand before flipping to the next. “They document preventive maintenance actions; each piece of equipment is given a rating based on its condition. I’ve seen similar things for aviation engines, but I couldn’t tell you if any of these passed or failed.”

“Awesome. This doesn’t exactly help us or the turtles.”

Leaning back in his chair, Steve shook his head, annoyed. “No. We need actual reports, but even then, I don’t know how many we’d have to go through to find anything.”

“What about the videos you requested?”

“That was a long-shot. There’s dozens of cameras on board, I’d need to see footage from….” Steve shot to his feet and snapped his fingers. “But the underwater footage could give us what we need.”

“We’re still talking about hundreds of hours, and we still don’t know what we’re looking for.”

“But we could send the bulk of the footage to the rest of the team.” Steve was animated, patting Danny on the shoulder. “If we could divide and conquer, we might just find something.”

***

Danny scowled at his laptop and watched the painstaking slow upload of Underwater Camera 14, the one connected to a cable that recorded all the progress of the drill. Even though oil wasn’t being pumped out, rig operators sent mud and chemicals through the channel to lubricate the drill bit as it bored underground.

Steve paced while he was on the phone with Junior. “Were you able to dig up all the financials on Baylor Oil & Gas? Good, send those over, we’ll review them while we’re here.”

Stupid Wi-Fi. Danny knew whacking the laptop wouldn’t speed things up. He looked over at Steve just as he finished his conversation. “It’s going to take hours for this footage to upload.”

Steve glared at the laptop like his disapproval would cause it to behave. Danny walked over and leaned down, wrapping his arms around Steve’s shoulders. “Come on, leave it be.”

Danny could feel all the air leave Steve’s lungs as he exhaled, the tension in his muscles relaxing minutely. Steve leaned the back of his head into Danny’s chest, acquiescing. It was the little things like this, the little vulnerabilities that Steve only revealed in front of him that made Danny’s chest swell with affection. 

An alarm went off through speakers in the room and Danny looked up at the ceiling then the door. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s ship-wide alarm.” Steve’s whole body went ram-rod straight. “Three short bell rings isn’t an emergency call. It’s more like a weather alert.”

“A weather alert? For what? Sunny skies?”

“You haven’t lived on board ships before.” Steve smiled before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “The weather changes on a dime when we’re at sea.”

Steve snagged his stuff and started toward the hatch. Right, this was what happened to them on cases. Grabbing his hard hat, Danny followed Steve into the hallway.

***

Danny hurried behind Steve feeling like they were breaking the rules for running around without a babysitter. He spotted Kidman walking toward them from the opposite direction and waved at her.

“Hey, do you know what’s going on?” he asked her.

Kidman came to a stop in front of them while carrying another box of maintenance cards. “Oh, you mean the warning bell? A storm’s coming in, so we have to batten down and secure all the equipment.”

Steve held out his hands to take the crate. “Do you know for how long?”

Kidman gave Steve the milk crate. “Um, I dunno. A few hours at least, probably all night. It just popped up and it’s feeding off the remains of the last system from this morning.”

Danny didn’t like the way Steve’s whole body stilled at the news, his mouth drawn into a glower. 

“Are you guys cool? I’ve got to go check on Manny to see if he’s got our baby on lockdown.”

“Your baby?” Danny returned his attention to Kidman. “What do you do onboard?”

Smacking her gum, Kidman laughed. “I’m the assistant crane operator. I get to hang out forty stories in the air inside a little box and swing heavy crap around all day.” 

That sounded freaking terrifying. 

“Oh, how did you know about these cards and stuff?” Danny asked curious.

“Every roustabout has to keep those records and report it to the safety officer every day. It’s like rig work 101 if you want to be promoted.”

And yet no one had bothered to make the suggestion before. 

“Thanks for all your help again, Ms. Kidman.” Steve looked like he wanted to shake her hand until he realized he was still carrying the crate. 

Kidman chuckled. “Yeah, no biggie. And it’s Becky, just in case I run into you again.” Becky glanced at her watch. “Look, I gotta jet.”

She shot down the corridor and Danny glanced at Steve. “Guess we have more cards that we can use.”

“Yeah, and now we have all the time in the world to read them.” 

Danny didn’t understand until he thought about things for a minute, then a sense of dread filled his being. They flew here, and the mainland was thirty miles way.

He and Steve were stuck until the damn storm was over. Fantastic.  
***


	3. Chapter 3

***  
The last thing Danny had eaten was a sandwich at work eight hours ago; he was starving. It only took a little prodding to go to the mess hall which contained several long tables. They took the furthest one off to the side, but it still didn’t alleviate the feeling that everyone was giving them the death glare.

A small group sat at the table in the corner. Danny recognized Shane; his head was shaved, so he didn’t look any different without the hard hat. His buddy Dodger shoveled food in his mouth while the other two workers glanced in Danny and Steve’s direction; it was obvious they were the topic of discussion.

“Not exactly the welcome wagon,” Danny mumbled. 

“We’re a threat to these people’s livelihood. To them we’re just another set of bureaucrats trying to take food off their table.”

Yeah, like Danny had mentioned before, they were the crew’s least favorite people. Maybe he shouldn’t eat the meatloaf. 

Speaking of overactive behavior.

“I meant to tell you earlier, I’m proud of the fact that you didn’t pull Reinhardt’s guts out through his throat earlier,” Danny said.

“Which time?”

“When he insulted what you did for a living.” 

If that bastard had even the slightest clue what Steve had sacrificed during his time in the Navy? Danny stabbed at his lunch with his fork.

“Like I told him, I’ve heard worse. You don’t survive BUD/s without becoming immune to people trying to tear you down.”

All Danny wanted to do in that moment was to reach out and touch Steve, caress his face, or hug him. Because the last thing Steve needed when he was young was to be stripped down and rebuilt into a hard shell by the military to withstand the horrors of war. Those fortifications were still in place, but they didn’t conceal the sweet, tender side that remained.

“If we weren’t in the middle of a mess, I’d kiss you,” Danny said his chest thick with emotion.

Steve smirked, ducking his head in that bashful away that was always so damn endearing. 

Danny needed to switch topics before he got caught up with his heart and he kissed Steve anyway. “The last I checked the upload was almost done. Junior and Jerry said they’d take the first shift in reviewing the footage and go from there.”

Steve rubbed a hand over his face. “We need to get our hands on more evidence, accident or daily logs.”

“That does not fall under the purview of our covers,” Danny reminded him. “But maybe we could work some magic….”

Another bell rang, this time with seven short rings. Almost everyone in the mess jumped to their feet and ran toward the doors.

Steve went instantly alert, his eyes darting around the room. “That’s a general alarm for an onboard emergency.”

Danny’s brain filled with a million different worse-case scenarios. His palms started sweating. “What kind?”

“I don’t know.” Steve grabbed Danny’s arm and started tugging him along. “But we need to find out.”

***

Danny wasn’t prepared for the wind when he reached topside; gusts blew his hair in every direction. Then the rain hit. 

After walking outside for ten seconds, water poured down his face from the diagonal spray. At least his coveralls protected the rest of him from the storm. 

“Do you see anything?” Steve asked, breathing hard next to him. His hair was plastered to the front of his forehead.

“Other than all this water?” Danny wiped the rain from his face and squinted against the wind. He noticed faint smoke billowing in the air, but it was difficult to tell what structure was on fire. “Over there!”

“I can’t tell what direction it’s coming from.” Steve searched the sky. “The wind’s blowing from the south east. I think the source is—“ 

“Williams, McGarrett!” Pullman ran toward them. He wasn’t wearing a hard hat and his hair was plastered against the sides of his face. “You need to return to below deck until the emergency is over.”

“If there’s a fire and we’re stranded on a platform in the middle of the ocean, then I beg to differ,” Danny said.

Because getting trapped underneath tons of steel during a fire was a one-way ticket to a horrible death.

“You are not on a naval vessel, sirs and as of right now--”

But Steve started to walk around Pullman. “We need to–“

“My crew has things under control.” Pullman stepped into Steve’s path. “No one is in any immediate danger.”

Steve planted both hands on his hips, defiant. “I think a fire is a sign of immediate danger.”

“It’s already contained.” Pullman held his head high in self pride. “We’re trained for this.”

Steve’s eyes darting between Pullman and the smoke; Danny could see he was contemplating making a run for it.

Pullman must have sensed Steve’s impending disobedience because he drew himself up to his full height. “I out rank you on this rig and you and PO William’s safety, along with everyone else on board, is my responsibility.” But Steve still looked like he was weighing his options, his gaze drifting toward the direction of the smoke. Pullman took a step closer, his voice dropping into a growl. “You’re just a high-ranking naval tech and unqualified to help in this situation. Return below deck, Commander.”

Annoyance and something darker reflected in Steve’s eyes, his lips thinning, water drops running down his nose. “Copy that.”

Steve did an about-face and marched toward the exit. 

This whole situation was having the exact opposite effect than Danny intended when he suggested going on this under-cover operation. 

***

“Will you cut it out,” Danny hissed.

Steve had paced in the hallway in front of their quarters ever since they had returned, leaving a small trail of water. But Danny wasn’t sure which thing had him the most agitated: that Pullman told Steve he was unqualified to help, a stinging rebuke, or that Steve backed down when faced with the reality of the situation.

“Babe, seriously.” But Steve continued pacing. Danny shook his head. “Hey, at least Pullman found his spine. I thought Reinhardt had pulled it out a long time ago.”

Danny was saved from dragging Steve away by the collar when he noticed someone exit the stairwell. It was Kidman.

“Hey,” Danny waved at her.

Becky looked like she just walked out of a college dorm room with her _I’m With Spock_ t-shirt and baggy purple pants. She came over carrying another milk crate. “Yo.”

“Are those more maintenance cards?” Danny asked with zero enthusiasm. 

“Yep. Hank thought this might help your investigation. He was sorry for having to pull rank and all.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, obviously indignant at the reminder. He looked like an annoyed, wet cat.

Danny wondered if he and Steve’s visits were the scuttlebutt of the place. After all there were close to two hundred people stuck on floating platform for weeks at a time.

“Is the fire under control?” Steve demanded.

Danny rolled his eyes. Someone needed to be reminded about using his polite voice with people who were trying to be helpful. Becky didn’t seem fazed by Steve’s gruffness; she probably dealt with worse on a daily basis. 

“Yeah. We have major fire suppression everywhere.” Becky blew a big pink bubble before popping it. “Thing was small, it was out in minutes.”

“You guys see a lot of fires on board?” Danny asked. He’d never seen someone act so casual about something that could trigger an explosion and kill them all.

She shrugged like it was no big deal; the gestured reminded Danny of Grace. “I’ve seen a few. It’s the reason why there are dozens of rules against having anything that can generate a spark. Hell, we can’t even have cell phones topside.”

“Where was it?” Steve asked. 

This time Steve didn’t sound like he was barking an order. Danny nodded at him in approval. 

“The movie theater which really sucks.” Becky sighed. “I was looking forward to _Deadpool_ , man.”

“You guys have a movie theater?”

Becky laughed at Danny. “Naw. It’s a room with a giant TV where we can watch Netflix and stuff. It’s a hang-out area.” Digging into the one of her pants’ pockets, she pulled her pack of gum. “Well, I have the next twelve hours off after the last five days in a row, so good luck.”

Danny kicked Steve none too gently in the knee. “Thank you,” Steve said, but Becky didn’t give any indication she heard.

Feeling wet and tired, Danny nudged Steve along with his shoulder. “Come on, grumpy, let’s turn in.”

***

 

Danny peeled out of his wet clothes and threw on some dry boxers and dug around in his duffle until he found an undershirt. Pulling it on, he glanced over at Steve who sat in the chair, still in his damp coveralls. 

“You should change.” 

But Steve studiously thumbed through the new index cards. Danny had already glanced at some and they were as useless as the others. He eyed the bunk beds with distaste. “I feel like we should be at summer camp or something.” 

When Danny didn’t hear a retort, he looked over at Steve, who continued flipping through the stack of cards too fast to be reading them. “Do you want to talk about earlier?” Steve flipped them even faster. “I am very aware that you have extensive knowledge about a lot of things, but you are not trained to put out fires.”

“Yeah, I know.”

A few years ago, Steve would have shoved Pullman out of the way and tried to fight the fire, because that was what he did: face danger head on. But this time he didn’t.

Danny walked over and rubbed Steve’s shoulder. “It’s okay to exercise restraint in dangerous situations; some would say it’s even healthy.” Because Steve needed to know that bravery and courage could go hand-in-hand with self-preservation. 

Steve clenched his jaw hard, like if he exerted enough pressure it would clamp down on all the emotions he was experiencing. 

Danny closed his eyes against the image of Steve bleeding out in the cockpit of a tiny plane. He squeezed Steve’s bicep. “The last few years have been hard. Especially the last few months.”

Steve let go of the cards and slouched against his chair with a faraway look in his eye. He rubbed a hand down the middle of his belly, over the scar beneath his coveralls. Danny knew it well, he’d touched it enough, had rubbed subconsciously against his own matching scar. But Steve had many more, including the one along his side where the bullet had entered his body and wreaked so much awful damage. 

“I’m glad you didn’t take off to go fight something you shouldn’t,” Danny said, his throat dry. Steve looked up at Danny and held his gaze. “Calculating risk is a skill. Choosing your battles doesn’t make you any less of a SEAL, it just makes you smarter.” _And alive._

Danny was getting used to the expression of surprise from Steve, the way his jaw relaxed when he was perplexed and at a loss for words. Like he couldn’t fathom what he was hearing was true. It hurt Danny to his core.

This time Danny touched Steve’s face, tender and soft. “I, for one, prefer it when you use your brain along with that amazing brawn of yours. Because I want you around and I want you to be with me forever.”

It felt like a huge admission, like he’d released something bottled-up inside for too long.

Steve turned in his chair and buried his head against Danny’s stomach. It was a rare, vulnerable gesture, one that took Danny by surprise. 

“You know that I’ll always do whatever it takes to return home to you,” Steve said as he wrapped both arms around Danny’s waist.

Danny stroked Steve’s wet hair with one hand while he curled his other arm around Steve’s shoulders. “I know, babe. I know.”

Steve sucked in a deep, shaky breath. “I haven’t felt like myself in a while. I....” He struggled for words, “I’ve lost something…and I don’t know what it is.”

Danny knelt in front of Steve, holding his head between both of hands. "The world keeps knocking you down, and you….” Fuck, he wasn’t good at this. “You keep dragging yourself back up, over and over again. You're strong, babe, but you're human.” Danny sucked in a breath, his voice breaking. “You gotta give yourself time to heal, and it’s okay if it's hard."

"Danny...."

"I know you. You've never given up before, and you're not gonna give up now,” Danny half-laughed, his chest tightening. “And maybe that drives me crazy but it also makes me love you. Everything you've been through, there's bound to be some wear and tear, okay? That doesn't mean you're not the toughest, the bravest guy I know.” He caressed Steve’s face again. “Because you are. You're the _best_ guy I know." 

Steve ducked his head. “Wear and tear,” he mumbled. 

Danny traced his fingers down the side of Steve’s cheek, rested them under Steve’s chin, and gently lifted his head up until their eyes met. “Wear and tear doesn’t mean broken. It means an awful lot of living and…” Danny sighed. “And still trying to figure it all out.”

Steve cleared his throat, looking at Danny with such deep fondness. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Sometimes, but I love hearing you say it.”

Danny leaned over and kissed the corners of Steve’s mouth, the slant of his lips. Tired of kneeling, he stood, moving forward until he was able to straddle Steve’s long legs. 

Steve grunted in encouragement, pulling Danny closer onto his lap. Steve meet Danny’s kiss with a more passionate one, slow and thorough and deep. Danny breathed in the scent of the sea and sweat from Steve’s skin, and for half a second the only coherent thought in Danny’s mind was that he wanted more, _needed_ more.

Pulling away to take a breath, Danny rested his forehead against Steve’s, their noses touching.

Steve placed a hand behind Danny’s head, kissing him again, and thoughts about shoot-outs, dirty bombs, and oil spills didn’t matter so much anymore.

Steve traced Danny’s arms with his hands, resting them over Danny’s hips, digging his fingers into his shorts.

Danny made a needy sound in the back of his throat. “Where’s a sofa or a bed when you need one.”

Steve bent over and licked Danny's neck, sucking open-mouthed kisses into his collar bone. "We do have…a bunk bed.”

“Yeah, no,” Danny murmured. 

Steve kissed him again, and his hand brushed against Danny’s hard-on through his shorts.

“Yes, that, keep doin’ that.” 

Steve reached inside his boxers and wrapped his fingers around Danny’s cock. “Like this?” 

“Yeah,” Danny said as Steve’s mouth moved against his. Danny whimpered against Steve’s lips, biting his tongue when Steve squeezed him with more pressure. 

“God, Steve.”

Steve grinned against his mouth, jerking him harder and harder in rhythm, and it was so damn perfect. Danny whimpered, needing this, wanting more. 

Damned bunk beds, because Danny wanted to touch and lick every inch of Steve’s skin. 

“Um,” was all Danny managed as Steve worked him into a place of pure bliss, but this was entirely too one-sided. 

Breathing through the haze of pleasure, Danny undid the top snap to Steve’s coveralls. Groaning at the pace Steve was using, Danny used both hands and yanked, popping open all the snaps going down Steve’s chest to his waist.

Steve did something wicked with his thumb and Danny groaned, almost losing his focus. But Steve was already hard by the time Danny reached down, fumbling with his belt, undoing his zipper to squeezed Steve’s dick through the material of his boxers. 

“Danny,” Steve moaned his hips jerked in reaction.

Neither of them had a good angle or even enough space, but the made up for it with desperation. Steve dug his fingers into Danny’s shoulders as Danny applied more pressure, with short, rough strokes of his hand.

“Yes, yes, keep doing that,” Steve murmured.

Danny leaned his head against Steve’s shoulder, every nerve pulsing with pleasure. He was so damn…close. He rubbed a thumb over a known sensitive spot under the Steve’s cock.

He felt Steve come with a shudder, come spilling over into Danny’s hand, the rush and adrenaline of it all such a turn-on. 

Danny came a few seconds later, his whole body shuddering as he held onto Steve, utterly spent. 

A ringing nose cut through the tiny room and Danny searched around for the source. The ringing continued and he zeroed in on Steve’s duffel.

“It’s the SAT phone,” Steve said, sounding flustered.

It kept ringing, and Danny tried to stand up without kneeing Steve in the process. Steve scrambled out of the chair and toward the sound. Danny rolled his eyes at the timing. 

Steve dug through his stuff, wiping his hands on a random t-shirt and answered the phone with his pants still around his hips.

Danny listened in as Steve talked to Junior, only catching bits and pieces of conversation as he used his discarded wet shirt to clean himself before rearranging his shorts. 

Steve pulled the phone away from his ear, his face animated. “Junior says they found something.” His eyes narrowed. “What?” Steve looked over at Danny. “Junior said they found footage of a possible leak at the end of the last file, but he’s missing the rest.”

That didn’t make sense. 

After ensuring his boxers were good, Danny pulled out his laptop and checked the progress. “The upload was taking forever so I just let it run in the background.” But when he looked Danny noticed the download had stopped. “I don’t understand.” He checked the connection with a frown. “The Wi-Fi’s out.”

Steve held the phone between his head and shoulder. After he pulled up his pants he dragged out his own laptop and powered it on. “Damn it, same here.” 

Danny checked the source of the upload, but it was down too. He couldn’t even review the rest of the video files. 

Steve ended his call and looked at Danny with a perplexed expression. 

“What?” Danny asked.

“Junior said that the government granted Baylor Oil & Gas their six-year contract late this afternoon.”

“I guess getting charged with any environmental violations would have put that in danger, huh?” He frowned at his laptop. “The storm could have knocked out the internet.” 

But Danny was a cop; he had a suspicious mind.

“Yeah, maybe.” Steve had that look, the one that meant he didn’t believe it for one bit. “Oil rigs use satellites for the internet.”

“That would explain why the upload speed sucked.”

Danny knew they wouldn’t be going to sleep or have a satisfying end to their night now. 

Resigned to their fate, he grabbed his duffle and pulled out a t-shirt while Steve finally started to change into his own dry clothes. “Come on; let’s go piss off some more people find out why the Wi-Fi is down.”

He could practically feel Steve beam with renewed energy.

***

It was a good thing Steve had packed an extra set of fatigues, since their other ones were soaked from the rain. After they changed and put on another set of coveralls, they went out exploring.

Danny didn’t enjoy wandering around without a firm direction. “Is there a tech room or something on board?” 

“You’re right,” Steve said. 

He did a big circle to look around, but it was obvious that even a Navy guy didn’t know where everything was on an oil rig. Danny looked over at the nearest corridor to see if every section was marked like on board ships. He was rewarded with a letter and number combination.

“We’re on Deck L, compartment ten.” Danny knew they were walking around the living quarters.

“Yeah, I think we need to reach Deck C.”

“Which is?”

“Manned communication centers; it’s probably topside with the control rooms.” Steve cleared his throat and waited while someone passed them in the corridor. “But we still need to figure out which compartment contains the network without alerting supervisory personnel.”

Danny did not want to go back outside in the middle of a storm to search for the off/on switch to the network. 

A guy with more tattoos than skin walked by them with a towel draped over his bare shoulder and bar of soap in his hand. The communal washroom was a few feet away.

“Hey, excuse me. Do you know where the control room for the satellite is?” The big guy stared at Danny like he an idiot. “We were playing, you know, Call of Duty, and I almost hit my high score.”

The Big Guy flipped his towel from one shoulder to the other. “The satellite burned up in the fire, dude. You won’t be hittin’ that score again for a while.”

The guy left, muttering how he was missing the new season of Iron Chef. 

Danny turned toward Steve, raising his eyebrows. “Wow, that’s, um, quite the coincidence, don’t you think?”

“A small contained fire that just happens to destroy our only possible evidence?”

If the movie theater fire was a result of arson, they were dealing with someone desperate enough to risk the rig to cover-up their tracks. Desperation usually meant recklessness; they needed to take a look.

Danny rocked from his heels to his toes and eyed the intersection again. “Do you want to check out the scene of the crime?” 

It’d been a long time since Danny had seen Steve give him a wicked smile, a wide grin that lit up his whole face and promised all types of trouble. He’d never say it out loud, but Danny was thrilled to see it again.

***

Danny was getting used to navigating narrow corridors as they walked up two decks where the movie theater was located. 

He chuckled when he saw three long pieces of duct tape used to block off the corridor leading the entrance. “I guess these counts as crime scene tape?”

Steve did a quick look around before peeling off the top two pieces and walking over the piece stretched at ankle height. Danny followed and helped put the tape back in place. 

Standing in front of the door, Danny pulled out a flashlight, turned the knob, and walked inside.

The smell of solvent and rubbing alcohol assaulted his nostrils; he covered his nose with his other hand. The room was a mess, chairs and a table was knocked over, and two sofas looked like they’d been tossed aside from when people entered to put out the fire. A large HD TV was burned to a crisp and thin layer foam from the fire suppressant coated the floor and walls.

Steve stood next to Danny as he swung his own flashlight around, the beam crisscrossing the room. “Can you locate the source of the fire?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out,” a voice said from behind them.

Danny and Steve spun around at the same time, each of them reaching for a weapon at their hip that wasn’t there. 

Gale Reinhardt stood a few feet away. He was still dressed in his blue coveralls and wearing a yellow hard hat while gripping his own flashlight. He kept it pointed toward the ground as he looked at Steve and Danny with a sense of resigned annoyance. 

“I thought it might be electrical based on the scorch marks on south wall.” Reinhardt moved passed them, shining his light on the black tinged paint that went from the middle section all the way to the ceiling. “The power to the satellite runs up here, but….” 

Reinhardt turned around and stared at them. “What about you two? Got any theories?”

A silence stretched in the room. Danny wasn’t sure to make of the situation or why the drill manager hadn’t drop-kicked them.

“Did you suddenly forget how to speak?” Reinhardt snorted. “I had to report this fire to the Coast Guard and about a million other people, including the arson division of the Oahu Fire Department. And did you know what a little bird told me?” He tapped his hand against his leg like he wanted to pull out a pack of cigarettes. “My little bird told me I had a couple of guests from Five-O snooping around.”

Reinhardt crossed his arms over his puffed out chest and waited. 

They’d been made. There was no use denying it at this point, now it was only a matter of how they wanted to play things. Danny glanced at Steve to see if he was going to give him a hint, even though the best course was to seek cooperation.

“Do you want to tell me why Five-O is on my rig?” Reinhardt growled his left eye twitching. Based on previous interactions, the man was trying hard to keep his fiery disposition under control.

“It depends,” Steve said his tone equally tight. “If we suspect a few employees of doing something illegal, would you–”

Reinhardt almost took a step closer to Steve, but he aborted the movement, locking his legs in place. “If any of my employees were breaking the law and endangering the reputation and welfare of this rig, I’d be the first to haul their asses to the firing line.” 

“We actually don’t use firing squads anymore,” Danny said in an attempt to break the tension.

Reinhardt glared at Danny. “Are you two yahoos going to yank my chain all day or are you going to –”

“We’re here to investigate possible violation of several environmental codes,” Steve said bluntly.

“We’re not even fully functioning yet,” Reinhardt growled.

“But you’re almost there,” Steve countered. “You said you were almost ready to milk the source.”

“Yeah, but….”

“Why don’t you play devil’s advocate?” Danny asked, keeping this conversation civil and productive. “At this stage in drilling, what _could_ cause possible toxic spills or leaks?”

Reinhardt paused in thought looking between Danny and Steve. He shook his head and mumbled under his breath. “After we located the petroleum, we began drilling our surface hole. Then we went into stage two, drilling deeper into the crust.” He held his chin in thought. “I guess something could happen when we began pumping mud to the drill bit.”

“That sounds tricky,” Danny said casually. “You pump all this mud down to a well, right?”

“It gets pumped down then back up. The mud lubricates the drill and seals the well we’re creating,” Reinhardt said with a nod.

“Do you use just mud?” Steve asked.

“No, it’s a combination of mud, clay, water, barite and a mixture of special chemicals.”

“How special?”

Reinhardt sighed in exasperation like he’d been expecting the question from Steve. “We use synthetic-based fluid because it’s less toxic to the environment.”

“Just less?”

Danny felt like a referee, stepping in to keep both sides grounded. “Obviously accidents can happen even at this stage, right? We’re talking about corrosive chemicals and petroleum and what not. How about instead of arguing whether it could happen, maybe we have a look at your security footage?”

“We already gave you our security footage.”

“We were given a transfer link, a link that doesn’t work anymore because your satellite’s toast,” Danny explained. “And the timing is well…it’s kind suspicious, yeah?”

“One of our colleagues was studying the footage and he saw evidence of a chemical leak from ten days ago.” Steve reigned himself in, his tone less hostile. “We were in the middle of obtaining the rest when we noticed the Wi-Fi went out.”

“We keep detailed security and maintenance logs.” Reinhardt gestured at them. “You’ve seen the records.”

“Who would be aware of a possible leak while being in a position to cover it up?” Danny asked. “Come on, we’re playing devil’s advocate, remember?”

Danny was wearing down Reinhardt, he could tell from the way his expression softened. “There are maybe a handful of people who have the skills….”

He had him; Reinhardt was doubting himself a little, Danny could tell from how his shoulders sagged from their defensive posture. “What about motive? I mean other than jail time or possible fines….”

“It would kill any person’ career, I mean...” Reinhardt paused, his brow wrinkling. “Sonofabitch. Unless you invested all of your savings in the company’s current stock.”

Reinhardt bolted out the door.

“Seriously?” Danny said.

“Come on,” Steve said following and tugging at Danny’s arm.

It wasn’t easy to navigate through narrow corridors at an angry pace. Every time a person got in Reinhardt’s way, he shouted at them to make a hole.

“Do you mind telling us where we’re going?” Danny yelled.

Reinhardt stopped in front a door and pulled out a keycard, swiping it through the scanner. “You wanted access to the actual security footage? This is the server room for the whole rig.”

“I’ve seen broom closets that were bigger.” Danny walked himself inside a space packed with racks of hardware with a million cables coming out from the wall. “Where’s Jerry when you need him?”

Steve squeezed in beside him. When he tried to look over Danny’s shoulder, Danny gave him a soft elbow to the side. Not one to take a hint, Steve muscled his way even closer, using Danny’s shoulder as an armrest.

“Would you two be still,” Reinhardt grumbled. He tapped his fingers on a computer touch screen while cursing under his breath. 

“What?” Steve demanded practically in Danny’s ear.

“The files have been deleted,” Reinhardt snarled. He pounded his fist on the side of the console. He turned around, forcing Danny to back into Steve to give him space. “I personally vetted Hank for this assignment. I don’t understand why he’d do this.”

“Wait, Pullman?” Danny asked. “You think he might be responsible?”

“Site safety, maintenance, almost everything is under his purview.” Reinhardt removed his hard hat and rubbed a hand over his thinning hair. “Last week after three sixteen-hour days in a row, we had some of my special stash of bourbon and he let slip that he transferred his entire savings into the company. Our contract with the state was pending–”

“And how does that benefit him?” Steve pressed.

“Baylor Oil & Gas is going to merge with another regional oil company; we were just waiting on the state contract to go through.”

“Thus, jacking up the stock price,” Steve finished.

“Estimates say it’ll double, maybe even more.”

Danny whistled. “That’s a pretty big pay day.”

“I don’t know,” Steve said, shaking his head. “It doesn’t add up.”

“People have done more for less,” Danny reminded him. “Pullman is the guy in charge of safety; nothing says you suck at your job more than covering up damaging the environment.”

Steve still wasn’t buying it. “Pullman notices a problem and he covers it up until the contract goes through. Then a couple of naval inspectors show up, and to avoid tension with the rig boss, we’re given access to hundreds of hours of security footage where we _might_ find something?”

Danny nodded along, because yeah, that was a big stretch. 

“Then what?” Steve asked, working his theory. “Pullman panics and risks an explosion just to keep us from seeing the footage?

“Maybe the footage is more damaging than we thought?” Danny postulated. “We don’t know the extent of the cover-up.”

“Maybe.” Steve walked away and pulled out his SAT phone from one of his pockets.

Reinhardt looked like a school principle pissed off at catching a problem student breaking the rules again. Danny held out his hand in a calming gesture. 

“Hey, Junior,” Steve said. “Can you pull all known records of a Hank Pullman?”

Danny watched Reinhardt glower at Steve and he rolled his eyes at him. “You know this whole attitude isn’t helpful. Is this some rival military thing?” 

Reinhardt scowled at him.

Steve paced as he listened. “Yeah? Nothing? His record’s clean?” He shook his head. “What about previous work history?”

Danny watched Steve prod Junior for more information over the phone, basking a little in his intensity, the way Steve’s shoulder bunched, how he stalked the same tiny floor space into the ground. Danny looked over and caught Reinhardt watching with almost amusement. He didn’t think he’d ever seen the guy when he didn’t look angry. 

“Oh, and just in case your little bird didn’t tell you, that man?” Danny pointed at Steve. “He’s served on land, sea, _and_ air.”

Reinhardt stood a little straighter under Danny’s scrutiny then gave him quick nod in acknowledgement. The gesture actually gave Danny a moment of satisfaction. 

“Junior, are you sure?” Steve asked in disbelief. “No, that’s very helpful. Look, I’ll call you back in a few minutes.”

Danny stared at Steve. “What is it?”

Steve rubbed at his temple, his eyes narrowing in surprise. “Based on the records Junior obtained, Hank Pullman is a fifty-one year old, African American.”

It felt like the floor had been pulled out from under Danny’s feet. “Um, o-kay. If the Chief Mate of this major off-shore oil rig isn’t Hank Pullman, then who hell is he?”

Danny and Steve glanced over at Reinhardt simultaneously, and for the first time, the big time rig boss stared back, speechless. 

***


	4. Chapter 4

***

Danny listened as Reinhardt and Steve discussed how Pullman had been recruited and hired for his position.

“Like I said, all his credentials checked out.” Reinhardt sounded mortified, his voice rising with every sentence. “He was highly recommended by his last two jobs. I ran both a damn criminal and credit check.”

Steve didn’t respond with hostility; in fact, his tone was empathic. “A good fake identity can hold up against the best checks, unless you fingerprint the subject in person.” 

Danny continued listening in as he walked back into the hallway and up to Steve. “Hey, I need your pocketknife.”

Steve turned in his direction and Danny dug into Steve’s left front pocket to pull out the knife he knew was there. Steve continued discussing things with Reinhardt without missing a beat, watching Danny out of the corner of his eye as Danny went over and scraped paint from one of the walls into the palm of his hand.

“Why the hell would anyone impersonate an oil rig employee?” Reinhardt demanded.

Maybe they shouldn’t be having this conversation in the hallway.

“Someone trying to hide,” Steve said. “A floating platform in the middle of nowhere seems like an ideal place.”

“You can’t fake the skills needed to be on here. I’ve worked around Hank, so has a lot of the crew.”

Danny had wondered the same thing, but he hadn’t figured out that mystery yet. He walked back inside the server room and rubbed the paint flecks between his hands over the touch screen, sprinkling the now powdery substance over it. 

He heard Steve walk behind him and felt him peer over his shoulder. “You need some tape?”

“Yeah,” Danny said, holding up his hand. He could always count on Steve to carry around supplies.

Steve didn’t have to ask Danny what he was doing because they were always in sync with each other, anticipating the other’s actions. Danny tore a piece with his teeth and used it to gather as many fingerprints as possible. 

“I really hope you paid for that fancy satellite phone upgrade Junior’s been nagging you about,” he told Steve as he handed him the strip.

“If you only knew have how much it costs to send high-res pictures with this thing.”

Danny smiled at the mental image of Steve haggling with the governor over dollar to megapixel ratios for transmitting data over a satellite phone.

Reinhardt poked his head into the room, his demeanor radiating tension. “Will your guys be able to identify whose running around my rig from that?”

Steve finished uploading the images. “We’ll get a list of everyone’s prints from the screen, but we’ll need you to eliminate all the names of known employees.”

“Whatever it takes to catch this asshole,” Reinhardt snarled.

***

It took an hour to match all the names of the prints Danny lifted from the touch screen. Luckily, there were very few people with security clearances who could access the server room. Danny remained on the phone with Junior as he relayed each ID to Reinhardt until the man paused on the third one.

“There’s no one on board by the name of Richard Burnett.”

Bingo.

Danny gripped the sat phone tighter. “Tani, we need you to run a full background on the last guy, Richard Burnett.”

_“Copy that.”_

It was hard to focus with Steve watching from the doorway. Danny turned around to give himself some breathing room.

 _“Danny…,”_ Tani said hesitant. _“Burnett is actually a Petty Officer, most of his file is classified and redacted, but he’s been AWOL for over two years and he’s…he’s wanted in the connection to an accident aboard a naval destroyer that killed three seamen and injured eight more.”_

Danny swallowed, his mind buzzing in reaction. Shit. “Okay, thanks Tani. Do you think you could pull everything you have on him?”

_“Yeah, just give me a few more minutes.”_

***

Danny stood the far corner of the crammed server room and listened as Tani debriefed him on their suspect, the hair on the back of his neck standing with every new detail. What the hell was happening?

“Thanks for pulling what you could find of his background,” he said after a beat.

 _“Yeah, it wasn’t what I expected.”_ There was a pause Tani moved something around. _“It looks like the storms are breaking; Junior and I will be on the first available chopper in the morning to meet you guys.”_

“It’ll be nice to see some friendly faces.”

_“You guys be careful.”_

“We will.”

Danny ended the call and stood for a moment, collecting his thoughts. Fuck. The case just got a lot more complicated.

Taking a deep breath, he walked back into the hallway. Reinhardt tried bullying his way around Steve, but Steve sent him a glare, forcing the other man to take a reluctant step back.

Steve looked back over and Danny nodded at him in expectation.

“There’s nothing new on Hank Pullman. Tani said she’s still trying to track him down, but the last known records of him were when he was employed in the Persian Gulf in 2015.” Danny cleared his throat. “The man on board is Petty Third Class Richard Burnett. He was last stationed somewhere in the Arabian Sea.”

“Somewhere?” Steve asked.

“His file’s classified; Tani’s still trying to find out what ship he was serving on, but so far, nothing.”

“He must have been special assignment. Was she able to find out what–“

“He was part of the Naval Construction Battalion,” Danny said, reading Steve’s mind.

“He’s a Seabee?”

“Yeah, and…,” Danny hesitated, knowing the next news would hit Steve on a personal level. “He’s AWOL. The military police went to detain him for a court martial, when he disappeared. The Navy’s been looking for him ever since. He’s been charged with negligence, dereliction of duty, three counts of manslaughter. And well, the list goes on.”

Steve took a step back, hanging his head low. When he spoke, his words were soft and brittle. “I heard bits and pieces about that…it involved classified maneuvers, I thought…,” He swallowed hard. “It was ruled an accident at first, although scuttlebutt said it wasn’t mechanical failure. Then an investigation was opened.”

He wandered to the end of the hall, rubbing at his temple, a sign of how stressed out he was. “Burnett goes AWOL and steals Pullman’s identity or worse…. Then he hops around getting jobs aboard oil rigs to hide out, until a few weeks ago when he stumbled into a possible big pay day.”

“That takes a lot of balls not to mention skills.” Reinhardt shook his head, angry. “I still can’t believe that bastard fooled me.”

“If he was part of an engineering recon team or member of the amphibious or naval construction teams...” Steve leaned against the wall in deep thought. “He’s highly intelligent; I bet he could have adapted and learned enough to manage. This man shouldn’t be underestimated.”

“Makes you wonder how alert he must have been when we showed up,” Danny said. It was always the quiet ones who were the most deceitful. 

Reinhardt, who had been staying out of the way, wandered closer, his previous combative demeanor toward them calmer. “Do you guys have a plan?”

“We wait until morning when our back-up arrives then take him into custody,” Danny said. 

Steve folded his arms over his chest and stood in silent contemplation, thinking. Danny knew that look, knew Steve never was the wait it out guy, not with the bad guy wandering around, a man who played them all. Someone wanted for hurting a bunch of sailors. 

Reinhardt narrowed his eyes at Steve, his hand twitching. He was definitely a recent ex-smoker. “I could call him on the radio ask him to–”

A blaring noise almost deafened them. Danny flinched at the sound and Reinhardt looked even more keyed up than before.

Steve glared at the speaker mounted in the ceiling. “That sounds like a general alarm.” 

“It’s for an immediate security threat.” 

Reinhardt started down the hall, but Steve moved in front of him, holding both his hands up. “Mr. Reinhardt, I don’t recognize this specific alarm.”

Steve was breathing hard, his eyes wide and focused. Danny knew it was taking everything in him to remain calm and collected when all he wanted to do was yell at Reinhardt to give him the answers he wanted.

“It’s for an active shooter, terrorist or threat,” Reinhardt said his chest heaving. “The entire crew has to return and remain in their quarters until an all-clear announcement is made.”

“What about security?” Steve asked.

Reinhardt wiped both hands over his face, he was distressed. The rig was his life, the people on board his responsibility. Danny could only imagine what was running through his head. 

“If this were an international platform, they would secure the cargo hold, but we only have three security guys, so they report to the control room.”

“This is Burnett,” Steve announced. “He triggered the alarm.”

“Um, why?” Danny asked. 

“To control the situation and keep the crew on lockdown.” 

Danny was used to Steve’s leaps of logic and need to go a hundred miles per hour. But emotions were high and they needed to slow down. “Burnett is not some super- elite soldier or even some criminal mastermind.”

“He might not have carried a weapon for a living, but he’s highly trained.” Steve turned to Reinhardt. “Did you tell Burnett we were Five-O?”

“Hank…I mean, Burnett was in the room when I found out. He might have overheard me on the radio.”

Damn it. Danny tried to recall all their interactions with Burnett, what was said in front of him, how much of the time the other man was actually observing them, gaining intel. “Okay, I concede that Burnett could have sounded the alarm to keep people away so he could hide. This doesn’t change things; we should wait for Junior and Tani to arrive. In fact, we should get on the horn and tell them to bring along a couple HPD teams to help arrest Burnett.”

“But he knows this.” Steve had that look, the one that said he wanted to do something over-the-top. “We should head to the control room. It’s probably his base of operations.”

“Steve, we don’t want this situation to spin out of control. And believe me, conducting a two-man raid of the control room would not only escalate things, it’s a seriously bad idea.”

“What about my control room personnel or the security guards he just summoned there with this alarm?” Reinhardt snapped.

“We don’t know if they’re in danger,” Danny reasoned, trying to keep emotions in check. “In fact, our presence might actually put them in harm’s way if Burnett thinks he’s being threatened.” 

But Danny had his doubts, his brain running through scenarios, and realizing some hard truths. Burnett could switch on an alarm, but he couldn’t create a situation to warrant one, especially when security arrived to assess the situation. What did he do with everyone once they realized there wasn’t an emergency?

He sighed, angry. “Can this alarm be made from any other part of the rig?”

“No,” Reinhardt said.

Danny hated being forced into a corner, but he realized they didn’t have a choice when several people could be in danger if they didn’t try to assess the situation.

“Okay,” he said clapping his hands together as he looked over at Steve in expectation. “I take it you have a plan?”

“Yeah, but you’re not going to like it.”

*** 

“You’re not scaling the outside of the control center!” Danny yelled. He should have known Steve would pick the most dangerous _I’m a Navy SEAL_ tactic to go after Burnett. “A) it’s dark. B) Its freaking raining, and C) you are not free-scaling a wall without equipment.”

“I’d only be climbing from the level below.”

Steve’s voice dripped in confidence, with a bravado that Danny had longed to hear, had been trying to help cultivate for weeks now. It was a crazy idea, one that only Steve could pull-off, and Danny knew this, understand with every fiber of his being that Steve had the skills to scale outside the control room. 

Yet the moment Steve jumped into commando mode Danny’s defenses went up. “No, I’m using my power of veto.”

Steve quirked an eyebrow at that. “There are cameras in every corridor. Burnett would spot us coming a mile away.”

There had to be other options to explore. Danny turned his focus on Reinhardt, who’d been observing them in silence. “You’re the head honcho; can’t you get on the radio and call someone, let them know what’s happening?”

“Not without being overheard.”

“You guys don’t have an emergency frequency?”

“Burnett would be monitoring it,” Steve said, jumping in.

“I concede that you are right about that,” Danny admitted. “But there’s no way he can listen in to every radio transmission, watch every camera, and keep an eye on potential hostages.”

“Not without help.”

Reinhardt glared at Steve, but it wasn’t the first time Danny had thought the same thing. There were too many moving parts and too much to cover-up without help or at least people willing to look the other way. 

“The control tower is located on the stern of the ship,” Reinhardt offered. “If we have to avoid the corridors, the only other approach is to go topside. And walk down the middle of the platform and up the ramp.”

“What about cameras on the platform?” Steve asked.

“There’s a bay of windows overseeing the platform but it’s filled with so much equipment and cargo containers that you can’t see shit. The cover of night will keep us from view.” Reinhardt removed his hard hat and rubbed his hand through the wisps of hair. “And before you argue with me, let me remind you that I’m in charge of this rig, I’m the one in command. You’ll follow my lead, got it?”

“Yes, sir,” Steve replied without hesitation. 

If Danny didn’t have bad luck, he’d have none at all. He was going outside to navigate an oil platform in the dark with his SEAL partner and Sergeant Slaughter. 

***

Danny adjusted his hard hat as he ascended the last few steps leading top side. It had stopped pouring, the rain a thin mist accompanied by large wind gusts. He squinted when the salt air blew into his eyes. They were in the belly of the platform surrounded by scaffolding and pieces of equipment Danny didn’t know the names of.

Danny followed behind Steve while Reinhardt took point.

They kept a steady pace, walking beside stacks of long metal pipes. He noticed a dozen wooden pallets had fallen over and were scattered all over the deck. A steel cage housing an orange generator rattled as the door banged open and closed with the wind.

“Is it always so chaotic out here?” Danny asked keeping his voice low. He felt like they were navigating a mine field. 

“This is where we store all the materials to build the well and unload supplies. That piping is going in next week. We were in the middle of a project when the storm forced us to stop.” Reinhardt glared at the steel cage and the dangerous safety violation it represented. “I’m going to nail someone’s ass to the wall for that.”

When Danny looked up, all he saw were parts of several huge cranes and metalwork. Reinhardt was right, there was no way anyone could see them from the control center. He could barely see the windows from his vantage point.

“Careful,” Reinhardt said, pointing at the metal rails that ran along the steel floor. “We use these to slide the containers on and off the platform.”

“I feel like I’ve been swallowed up by some metal beast,” Danny whispered. 

Steve’s head was in constant motion, ever vigilant. His right hand bounced against his leg; he very clearly wanted to be armed, but their guns were secured in Reinhardt’s office in the control room. 

Danny spotted the ramp they needed to climb to the control room only thirty yards away, less than basketball court.

Something crashed ahead of them.

Danny flinched at the noise. Steve grabbed his arm and tugged them toward the ground, his breathing harsh. It was an instinctual move; they were not being fired upon, but it was impossible to locate the source of the sound. 

Danny’s gut screamed at him to run. He looked over at the rows of blue containers stacked three high. _Clanking_ noises echoed off all the steel around them.

“What’s causing that?” Steve shouted over noise.

Reinhardt crouched and frantically looked around. “I don’t know.”

Something sounded like two metal garbage dumpsters crashing into each other. Danny froze unsure what to do next, his heart pounded. “Steve.”

Steve turned around in a full circle searching for the noise. He reached out and touched Danny’s arm almost as if it were an anchor. “I think we should return below deck.”

A heavy gust of wind sprinkled ocean spray and rain across Danny’s cheek, another banging noise followed, and this time it came from Danny’s right. 

He looked up in time to see a giant blue container topple over and crash onto the deck five meters from where he was standing. “Holy shit!”

Another container groaned, Danny could see it wobble with the wind. 

Reinhardt cursed. He pulled out a flashlight and shined it at the other blue containers. “The safety straps aren’t tied down!” Spinning around, he grabbed Steve and Danny and started shoving them away. “Move! Burnett sabotaged the equipment.”

A second container crashed behind them the sound rattling Danny’s teeth. Adrenaline surged through his veins as he pumped his legs, heading toward the stairwell door.

Another horrible gust of wind blew rain into Danny’s face, the scaffolding overhead creaking with the violent shift in air. Danny snagged a piece of Steve’s sleeve, holding on to any part of him he could. Steve laid his hand on the back of Danny’s shoulder, pushing him forward.

Danny felt Steve’s body crowd behind in an attempt to shield him from potential falling debris. Danny responded by wrapping an arm around Steve’s shoulder, keeping them in step.

They couldn’t run fast enough. Danny caught movement out of the corner of his eye and he shouted a warning before ducking something as it flew toward his face. A pained yell and a crash of a human body followed.

Danny craned his neck to look behind him. Steve had already stopped and started running toward Reinhardt who laid sprawled face-down on the deck, his hard hat off to the side.

“’m fine,” Reinhardt slurred. 

Steve knelt beside the injured man, checking his pulse. Reinhardt batted at Steve’s hands, but it was a weak gesture. Blood dripped from a gash in his forehead and he struggled to get to his hands and knees.

Danny noticed Reinhardt’s boot was caught in one of the deck railings. “Hold on.” Reaching over, he freed the man’s foot, Reinhardt groaning in pain from the movement. 

“Damn it,” Reinhardt cursed. “I think my ankle’s fucked.”

Grinding noises echoed from the stack of pipes, the wind whipped around. “Steve,” Danny warned. They needed to run.

“Listen to me,” Steve said, glaring at Reinhardt. “Danny and I are going to help you to safety, and you will let us without argument. Understood?”

Panting, Reinhardt grunted. “Understood.”

Bending over, Danny draped Reinhardt’s arms over his shoulder while Steve did the same on his other side. 

“On a count of three,” Steve huffed.

Standing, Danny helped Steve limp Reinhardt the rest of the way toward the stairwell, the sound of metal crunching filling his ears as they reached the door.

***

They lugged Reinhardt for a while until coming to a stop half way down the hall.

“Here,” Danny said, releasing Reinhardt’s arm so he could lean against the wall. Blood dripped Reinhardt’s face and he swallowed several times, probably to keep from throwing up. “Is there a medical facility near-by?”

“Yeah, two decks up,” Reinhardt panted. He flopped down onto the floor, sticking out his leg in front of him. “Sonofabitch.”

Steve kept his eye on the door as if he expected someone to bust through it. Danny glanced up at him before studying the gash at Reinhardt’s temple. “Steve, do you have anything we can use to stop this bleeding?”

“Maybe.” Steve took off his hard hat and set it on the floor then he knelt in front of Reinhardt studying his face, wincing. “You got whacked pretty good.” 

“Piece of the scaffolding fell off in the wind.”

Steve nodded and started looking up and down the hallway until he spotted a medical kit hanging at the wall.

Danny returned his attention to Reinhardt. “Do you really think Burnett released all the safety traps?” 

“Everything was secured during the storm using steel cables and buckles.” Reinhardt closed his eyes, his complexion paling. “It would have taken effort to release them all. I bet all that noise we heard was the rest of the piping coming loose.”

“I never thought I’d classify metal containers as deadly weapons.” Danny bit his lip; the image was a thing of nightmares. 

“Using your environment is smart.” Steve walked back with the med kit. “If Burnett doesn’t have any weapons, then he’ll make them.”

Something Danny knew Steve was very adept at doing as well. 

Steve ran through several quick neurological checks while Danny debated their options. He stood, stretching out his legs, deep in thought. Burnett had no problem using lethal force; the scale for danger had jumped tenfold.

“I think we should regroup, call Junior and tell him the situation. Have him bring SWAT back with him.” It was a solid, reasonable plan.

Steve took Reinhardt’s hand and made him hold a pressure bandage against his wound. “I agree about SWAT, but I don’t think this is over.”

“Why? Burnett has the high ground; he has eyes everywhere because of the cameras, possible hostages, not to mention and unknown number of possible back-up. Even I, the non-SEAL, recognizes when we’re at severe tactical disadvantage.”

“Then what?”

“What do you mean then what?” Danny had summarized every edge that Burnett currently held over them.

Reinhardt made a shooing gesture at Steve, who frowned, but backed away and stood up. Planting his hands on his hips, he looked over at Danny. “Burnett has the crew on lock-down, he can’t leave, and he knows by morning this place will be swarming with cops. That’s not much an exit strategy.”

“Maybe that’s because it’s all he–“

The door from the other end of the hallway opened, interrupting Danny’s train of thought, but Steve already had pulled out a hidden knife and held at ready toward the person emerging from the hatch.

“Holy shit!” Kidman threw her hands up in the air. “What the hell?”

“What are you doing here?” Steve demanded.

“Whoa.” Danny glared at Steve. “Put that down.” Then he turned toward Kidman. “I’m sorry, my partner is a little paranoid right now. “

Steve lowered his KA-BAR and put it back in his knife holster. “I still need to know what you’re doing here.”

“Screw you, I work here,” Kidman snapped. “Why the hell are you waving a knife in my face?”

“McGarrett and Williams are cops.”

Kidman jerked her head toward Reinhardt, her eyes grew big. “Dude, what happened to your head?”

“Seriously, Becky…,” Reinhardt grunted his voice thin. “Why are you here?”

Kidman folded her arms across her chest, she still wore a pair of purple baggy pants; it made her look like just walked out of a slumber party. “I’ve got beer stashed on this deck, and since we’re all grounded like a bunch of kids—”

“It’s a security level threat,” Reinhardt growled suddenly more alert.

Kidman rolled her eyes. “Right. Like I told Mr. Butcher Knife earlier, I have the next twelve hours off, and if I can’t watch Netflix or YouTube, then I at least want to get tipsy.”

“Do you think you can just wander around?” Reinhardt really was a hard ass about the rules.

“People are only going to stay put for so long during a drill, boss. Give it another hour without word, and half of them are gonna be out wandering around.” Kidman checked her watch. “Well, those not sleeping.” She stared at Danny and Steve. “Now would someone tell me what’s –”

_“Gale, it’s Hank. Over.”_

Danny stared at Reinhardt who seemed dumfounded at first, but realization dawned, and he started patting at his pants pockets with one hand while he head the bandage to his head with the other.

_“Gale, I know you’re there.”_

Demonstrating zero patience, Steve bent down to retrieve the radio, but Reinhardt yanked it out first. “This is Gale. You can stop using someone else’s name, Burnett.”

_“I know the cops are with you. Put Commander McGarrett on.”_

Throwing the soiled bandage to the ground, Reinhardt sat up straighter, the dried blood and forming bruises accenting his furious expression. “Who the hell do you think you are? How dare you put the people of this–“

_“Go blow a gasket some other time. Let me speak to McGarrett.”_

Shaking in anger, Reinhardt practically shoved the radio into Steve’s face, almost smacking him in the chin.

Steve took the radio and straightened to his full height and rolled his neck. “This is Commander McGarrett.”

_“Commander, I knew the Navy would catch up to me sooner or later.”_

“Believe it or not, we weren’t after you.”

_“I choose not to believe you.”_

“That’s your prerogative, but I’d be liar if I didn’t say I’m glad we stumbled upon your hiding place. Now if you’re contacting us regarding your terms of surrender….”

_There’s an oil line leak in one of the engine pumps. If it’s not repaired in a timely manner a fire will break out.”_

Jesus. 

Danny rubbed hand over his face, because how in the hell did circumstances devolve at such a rapid rate? 

Steve stared at the radio in shocked disbelief. Licking his lips, he spoke in tight, controlled manner. “Any type of fire hazard would put you in the same amount of danger as everyone else on board.”

_“It all depends.”_

Steve gripped the radio until his knuckles were white. “This isn’t something to screw around with _Petty Officer.”_

 _“I’m not in the military anymore, Commander,”_ Burnett snapped, breathing harsh. _“Don’t try pulling rank on me.”_

That hit a raw nerve, because Steve’s expression went flat and his voice became a throaty growl. “No. No, you’re not, because you’re a disgrace to the uniform–“

_“Unless you want to see what happens when an explosion occurs on a sitting fireball, then I suggest you stop wasting time. “_

Danny watched a wide range of emotions play out across Steve’s face, rage, sudden realizations, and _fear._

“Why the hell would you risk blowing up the very thing keeping you afloat in the middle of the ocean?” Steve demanded.

_“I’m not afraid of the water, are you?”_

The asshole was joking about mass murder. Danny wanted to wring his neck.

_“Oh, and Commander—don’t involve any of the crew. You tell them to stay on lockdown. If you ask them for help or tip them off to what’s going on...I’ll start killing the ones nearest to me.”_

“You sonofabitch!” Reinhardt snarled

“Why are you doing this?” Steve started pacing. “What’s the strategy?”

Burnett sighed. _“If you repair the sabotage then you’re too busy to pursue me. If you don’t…well, by the time your back-up arrives, they’ll be too busy fighting a raging inferno or picking through the bodies. Either way, you’ll be too distracted to deal with me.”_

Steve flicked his eyes in Danny’s direction, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “What makes you so sure I can prevent an impending explosion?”

_“If you can’t, then maybe the Navy wasted its time on you.”_

The radio went silent.

Danny felt like he’d been holding his breath during the whole exchange, the shock of drawing air into his lungs an overwhelming sensation. Steve stared the radio and clenched his jaw. It looked like he wanted to punch holes in the wall.

“I would prefer to be really drunk right now.” Kidman spoke up from where she stood beside Reinhardt. “What the hell, dudes?”

Danny had forgotten she was even there. Steve had a look in his eyes, the same one he had when he thought scaling the control center was a good idea and something else. Something…darker.

“Do you have a radio?” Steve asked.

Kidman patted at her pant pockets. “Um, yeah?”

“Good. You’re going to take Reinhardt to your quarters and lock the door.”

Reinhardt opened his mouth to protest but Steve cut him off. “This is an active criminal manner and right now Danny and I are in charge. Now, I need to know everything about these engine pumps and I need it without argument. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” Reinhardt replied.

***

Danny wished that the people who surrounded him were not so damn obstinate. Kidman wanted to ‘rally the troops’ and hunt Burnett down, Reinhardt insisted that he come along even though he had a concussion and couldn’t walk, and after an intense Q&A with the rig boss, Steve called Junior to get any last minute details on Burnett’s background.

But after wrangling and tucking away their two civilians, he and Steve started down the stairwell toward one of the lower levels of the rig. Danny adjusted a backpack of tools that he and Steve had gathered in hopes of disarming or stopping whatever disaster was waiting for them.

He looked up at one of the cameras in the corner of the third flight down. Steve walked toward it and reached up, whacking it with his hand. His grin of satisfaction sent a tingle deep inside Danny’s belly.

“You really enjoy destroying things a little too much, Babe.”

Steve looked over his shoulder. “And you like watching me enjoy it.”

Danny grabbed the stairwell handle to keep himself from tripping, because Steve was never that blatant. Since when was Danny so damn easy to read? “You really have the worst timing, you know that. Then again, I think you get off on danger, it’s the only explanation for why you throw yourself in so many death-defying situations.”

Situations that Danny hated, but knew deep down were a part of Steve’s DNA, a perilous combination of self-confidence and fearlessness. And maybe Danny liked it on some level, attracted like a moth to a flame.

“Want to tell me again what we’re walking into to?” he asked.

“The engine pump is what drives the drill that’s used to bore into the sea bed. There are two diesel-driven pumps inside the next room; they’re used to push the cement down the well.”

“I’m guessing an oil leak of any kind would be bad.”

“Yeah. What I don’t understand is why take such a huge gamble? I mean any type of explosion or fire has the potential to be catastrophic….” Steve stood in front of the looming metal door, his shoulders rigid.

“If there’s anyone who could stop a possible engine pump fire, my money’s on the guy who’s defused dirty bombs and planned raids on drug cartel compounds.” Danny touched Steve’s arm. “And there’s no one I trust more.”

Despite Danny’s boisterous nature when it came to some of Steve’s ideas, he trusted him with his life and the lives of his children. Danny’s confidence in Steve was unquestionable, and Danny hoped that unwavering belief would help restore Steve’s faith in himself. 

A wan smile spread across Steve’s face, soft and endearing, the crinkles around his eyes doubling. Then, like a flip of a switch, Steve’s expression hardened as he reached over to open the metal door…

An explosion of light erupted from the hatch and Steve flew back backward. Steve’s shoulder struck Danny hard in the chest, knocking him down. 

Danny struggled for breath from as a pain resonated from the back of his skull from where it impacted the floor. 

“Steve?” 

An awful burning smell filled the air and Danny fought against his gag reflex. He rolled onto his hands and knees and peered over at Steve who was sprawled onto his back, unmoving. 

Panic swelled inside his chest. “Steve!”

He pushed up on his hands when a motion from the doorway caught his eye. Danny struggled to his feet as Burnett swam into view, pointing a Sig in his face. 

“Please take two steps back, Detective.”

The asshole had the audacity to ask Danny politely. Danny flicked his gaze to Steve on the floor and back up at Burnett. “Not until I check on him.”

“This is Commander McGarrett’s weapon; I’d hate to have to shoot him with it.” 

“Then you’ll have to shoot me first.” Like hell was this asshole going to keep him away from Steve. 

The butt of the Sig smashed against his temple. Danny’s neck jerked from the force and he grabbed his head as he swayed on his feet. Rough hands gripped him by the lapels of his coveralls and forced him down. 

Danny struggled against Burnett, but the other man had weight and position over him. Burnett grabbed Danny’s wrist and handcuffed it to a pipe sticking out from the floor. 

“What the hell?” Danny yelled, jerking on the restraint. “Where did you get these?”

“Security had some. And you need to stay put.”

Burnett moved toward Steve and started patting down him down muttering, “Where are they?”

Danny lurched toward them, but the cuff dug into his wrist and pulled on his arm and shoulder. “Damn it!” Breathing hard, he glared at Burnett. “Is he alive?” He couldn’t see if Steve’s chest was moving.

“Affirmative.” Burnett moved to Steve’s other side. “Damn it.”

Danny was forced to remain in a kneeling position. He had no room to maneuver as he uselessly tried inching closer, the handcuff straining his wrist. He still couldn’t get a good look at Steve. “What the hell did you do to us?”

“Created an open circuit with some parts of a generator and a very tiny battery, well tiny enough,” Burnett said, like it was no fucking deal. “When the Commander touched the door handle…well….”

Danny felt the blood in his veins pump in fury. “You electrocuted him?”

“No, I gave him an electric shock,” Burnett snapped, sounding offended. He stared at Danny and pointed his finger at where Steve lay on the floor. “If he’d been electrocuted, his heart would have stopped,” he huffed.

“He needs medical attention, damn it!” Danny lurched forward in an attempt to get closer, stretching his body to the limit, the muscles in his shoulder screaming.

Burnett wiped a hand over his face and tugged at his shirt collar under his coveralls. “Just keep your cool.”

“Did you impersonate a doctor before you became an oil rig worker, too?”

Burnett ignored him, patting down Steve’s legs, his hands slowing when he reached the right ankle. “Hello,” he said, retrieving Steve’s knife. “What a surprise.” He tossed it across the room.

When Burnett started undoing the snaps to Steve’s coveralls, Danny lost it. “What kind of demented sonofabitch rigs a door to fry another human being so they can get their jollies from accosting them while they’re unconscious? No wonder you spend all your time on an oil rig in the middle of nowhere.”

Burnett whirled around, his nostrils flaring. Sweat beaded on his face and he wiped some of it away with his arm, agitation punctuating his every move. “You don’t know when to be quiet, do you?”

“What the hell are you looking for?” Danny demanded. “I guarantee he doesn’t carry in cash in his wallet.”

“I want the keys to his chopper.”

“What?”

“The helicopter; I want the damn keys.”

“You can rig explosions and bobby traps, but you can’t hotwire a chopper?”

“It’s a fucking military-grade bird. I need the key to enable the electrical system and to open the fuel valve.” Burnett grabbed Steve by the lapels and started shaking him. “Where they hell are they?”

Danny was going to have a stroke. Steve couldn’t even defend himself. 

“Hey, asshole. You fucking zapped him!” God, this guy was unhinged. “But if you want to shake someone, come over and shake me.” Danny yanked on his handcuffs again, ignoring the pain it caused. “See, I can only fight back with one hand. But I guarantee it’s all I’ll need to wring your goddamn neck.” 

Burnett stopped shaking Steve and let him go, the back of Steve’s head smacking the floor. Danny was going to break Burnett’s fucking jaw.

Burnett picked up his weapon from the floor and spun around, aiming it at Danny. “Then tell where they are.”

“I—don’t—know.”

Growling, Burnett pointed the weapon at Danny’s leg. He was sweating buckets. “I have twelve rounds you know.”

“You discharge that weapon and you risk a huge explosion,” Steve said in a harsh whisper.

Burnett returned his attention to Steve.

“Steve?” Danny asked, trying to gauge his wellbeing. 

“Where are the keys, Commander?” Burnett snapped.

“They’re…in our quarters.” Steve tried rolling onto his side, but it was obvious he was too exhausted to move. He all but flopped onto his back, boneless. “I left them in my duffle.” 

The Sig wobbled in Burnett’s hand and he gripped it harder. “I don’t believe you.”

Danny recalculated his assessment. Burnett was a smart, horrible person, but he wasn’t cut out to wear the shoes of a big bad villain. His jitteriness made him dangerous. 

“Where the else would I keep them?” Steve growled. “You searched me…I don’t have them.”

Yelling in frustration, Burnett stuffed his weapon in his pocket. Then he manhandled Steve, dragging him across the floor and handcuffed his wrist to another pipe next to Danny. 

Steve didn’t put up much of a struggle which was a million kinds of wrong, but he still managed to glare at the other man. “What…about the oil line leak?”

Burnett bent over Steve. “Guess you’ll just have to use that Navy know-how.”

“You’re insane,” Danny snarled.

“Save it…Danny. This man’s a traitor.”

Standing, Burnett stared. 

Every muscle in Danny’s muscle strained to the limit as he readied himself to punch the ever-living shit out of Burnett, but the asshole didn’t hit Steve in retaliation. He simply held Steve’s glare then turned his back on him and left the same way he had entered. 

The sound of the hatch being locked echoed inside the room.

***


	5. Chapter 5

***

Danny moved as far as his arm would allow him, the tendons in his shoulder protesting, but Steve was still out of reach. “Hey? Talk to me.”

Steve had been handcuffed while he was on his back, which made it physically difficult if he tried to sit up. But that didn’t stop the man as he started moving around sluggishly. 

Worry became a knot in Danny’s stomach. He ignored how his brain whispered _electrocuted, electrocuted, electrocuted_ –like Steve might stand up then drop dead from a heart attack right in front of him. 

“Seriously, Steve. You should remain still, we don’t know–“

Steve completely ignored him, because that was what he did. He twisted his arm and body around until he was on his knees then rested his forehead against the hard floor. He swallowed convulsively, as though it was taking everything in his power not to throw up.

“Damn it, Steve.”

“We need to get out of these cuffs…if we don’t….” Steve didn’t lift up his head. “I just need a minute.”

“Take more than one.” 

Danny moved until he sat on his ass and then looked around for a way out. He noticed the duffle they’d brought was off to the side. It must have fallen away when Steve was thrown, but it might as well be a mile away. Biting his lip, Danny searched for something, anything to help them escape.

“The tools, Danny….”

“I’m looking at them. And unless one of us becomes Plastic Man, we can’t reach it.”

“You mean…Reed Richards.”

“No, Plastic Man.”

“Reed Richards, he was—“

“Mister Fantastic.” Danny relaxed his arm and looked over at Steve. He still hadn’t moved from his curled-over position. But Danny knew this game, knew what was needed to help Steve push-through the pain. “I am well aware who the Fantastic Four are, Steve. Although I’m very surprised you do, since the last I checked none of them like to blow things up.”

“I read comics as a kid.”

“Oh, yeah? Superman?”

Steve finally lifted up his head, his face gray. “The Hulk. Spiderman sometimes.”

“I figured you more a Captain America fan.” Danny watched Steve move onto his butt and lean his head against the wall to swallow again. “Steve, come on. Talk to me.”

“Every muscle hurts…feels like I’ve run the longest marathon of my life.” Steve bent his left leg toward him with a grimace. “My arms tingle,” he said, grabbing his shoelaces with his left hand. “But….”

He started undoing the shoelaces to his boots and pulled them all the way out. Gripping the black lace between trembling fingertips, he flashed Danny a smile. “Never leave home unprepared.”

“You just pulled out your shoe lace.”

“Yeah, but it’s what’s attached at the end of the lace that’s important.” Steve held up a little piece of metal sticking out from the lace. “I almost forgot about this.”

Danny squinted in the dimness. “Is that a key?”

“Yep.”

“You have a key sewn into your bootlace?”

“No, I bought one developed for elite forces. I got my hands on one after we were captured by the Yakuza the last time.”

“What does it say about our lives when you have to say ‘the last time we were held prisoner’?” 

Danny sat straighter and watched. Steve had to use his left hand, fumbling with the key as he tried inserting it into the slot, forcing him to try again. 

Danny couldn’t see Steve’s right hand very well since it was handcuffed. He tried not obsessing over how bad the burn must be from where Steve had touched the door handle, instead he focused on how good it’d feel when he booted Burnett’s ass into jail.

But his brain couldn’t settle on thoughts of revenge when there were so many other questions vying for attention. “Why didn’t he kill us?” 

“What?”

“He had a gun, why didn’t he shoot us? Why even bother with the elaborate trap to begin with?”

Steve wiggled the key, releasing the handcuff around his wrist. He rubbed the abrasions before he crawled toward Danny. “Those sailors died because of negligence.”

It only took a moment before Steve unlocked his handcuff. Danny shook his wrist to get the circulation going again. 

“It takes guts to pull the trigger,” Steve said low in his throat. “Burnett thinks sabotaging equipment and setting traps keeps his hands clean, but it just makes him a damned coward.”

Danny crawled over and touched both side of Steve’s face, his fingers brushing his cheeks, touching his throat, feeling the rapid pulse beneath his fingers. Before Steve could protest, he grabbed his right hand and turned Steve’s palm over to examine it and hissed at what he saw.

The middle of Steve’s palm was swollen red and blistered, and Danny couldn’t help rubbing his thumb in a soothing circle over Steve’s wrist. “We need to treat this.” Danny started rolling up Steve’s sleeve.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked pulling his arm away.

“I’m looking for swelling.” Danny had seen a lot as Jersey cop, he knew a little about electric shock victims. Most of the damage was hidden.

“We don’t have time.” Steve clamored to his feet and had to grab the wall for support.

It took a moment for Danny stand, his head pounding from the effort. He dug his fingers into Steve’s shoulders, leaning into him. Steve wrapped an arm around his back and Danny had no idea who was supporting who. He could hold onto to Steve forever. 

“You okay?” Steve asked, pulling away. He studied Danny’s face, worry etching his features. 

“I’m better than you.”

Steve sighed then looked down at his boot with a frown.

“Let me,” Danny said. Careful of any dizziness, he bent over and re-laced Steve’s boot, knowing how difficult it would be with his burned hand.

“Thank you,” Steve said softly. 

Anytime. But Danny didn’t need to say it out loud. 

After giving him a wan smile, Steve helped Danny to his feet and the two of them headed toward the engine room.

***

The door was ajar and Danny used his shoe to open it the rest of the way. A small generator and copper wire lay in a jumble on the ground. Burnett must have disassembled the thing after he was done with it. 

He wanted the kick it, but knew that would be a dumb idea, so instead he worried about long-term effects and compound effects, and damn it, even short-term consequences freaked him out. “Do you have any idea what electricity does to your nerves and blood vessels, huh?” 

“Bad things, but it won’t matter if we don’t—” Steve stopped in his tracks.

Danny skidded to a halt, clinging to Steve. He looked over his shoulder. “Holy crap.”

The room was massive; the ship’s diesel engines were bigger than semi-trucks and they required a ramp to reach the top of each one. He couldn’t even identify most of the machinery except for the valves and piston rings, but it was freaking hot, making it feel as if he’d walked inside a pressure cooker.

Everything hummed, the unknown source of noise added to Danny’s nerves. And there was an odd sound, like something was leaking air. 

But what bothered him the most was the smell of gas. He sniffed. “This doesn’t seem good.”

“It’s not.” Steve walked around, his movements slow and stiff.

Hoses ran in and out of the components. One of them went from the left side of the engine pump and down to the floor, a steady dribble of oil leaking from where it connected to a metal pipe. 

Danny watched a large slick spread across the floor and under the nosy equipment. He bit his lip. “These things don’t have safety measures?” 

“They do.” Steve moved in front of the first engine. He pointed at the hoses, a tremor running down his right arm. “Those are sheathed and double skinned hoses with leak trays. A chief engineer or their staff usually monitor it twenty-four seven. But those measures don’t work when someone breaks the nozzle and the equipment is left unmonitored.”

“We’ll just fix the valve, right?” Danny said, making a twisting motion with his hand.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

Steve’s voice dropped as he studied where the hose came out of the siphon, his eyes narrowing. “This broken hose leads to a highly pressurized fuel pump…” He exhaled, wiping away beads of sweat from his forehead. “And it’s leaking gas fumes.”

Anxiety squeezed inside Danny’s chest and against his lungs. 

Steve looked up at the ceiling and scowled. “Burnett closed the fire flaps and stopped the ventilation fans; this place is a fire trap.”

Danny did not do well when faced with the possibility of being inside a room that could explode. He swallowed, becoming acutely aware of his surroundings, the smell of burned metal and oil, the increasing sound of rattling metal that he couldn’t identify.

“And that annoying noise?”

“The vibration means something’s loose, could be anything.” Steve’s voice was rough with stress and pain. “It’s a miracle nothing’s sparked a fire already.”

“Do you…um, know how to fix it?” Danny didn’t mean to sound so concerned, but his heart was racing and it felt like he’d soaked through his clothes with perspiration. 

Steve flicked his gaze about the room with a hard look, a ripple of tension going through his shoulders. “There are multiple problems to fix….multiple ignition points....”

There was a moment, quick and subtle. A slight hesitancy when Steve frowned, his voice trailing. Danny almost missed it. 

“Hey.” Danny rested both hands on Steve’s arms, grounding him. “You served half your life on ships, surrounded by gears and pistons.” He brushed the side of Steve’s face with his fingers. “You studied ocean engineering….”

And myriad of emotions flash across Steve’s face, too quick to identify, but Danny recognized it when Steve slipped into Commander Mode.

Craning his neck, Steve studied the corners of the room, at the ceiling, and he got that glint in his eye that signaled determination. “I can’t repair this, but I should be able keep everything from blowing-up.”

Danny felt his heart jump. “You’re going to turn everything off?” Because that’s the first thought that came to mind.

Steve raised an eyebrow in question. “No, I don’t know how to power-down a set of engines like these, but this room _is_ filled with fire repellent.”

Steve’s answer was beautiful in its simplicity. Danny snapped his fingers. “Just like the ships’ movie theater.” Good, they could do this. Yes. “Tell me what to do.”

Steve’s gaze darted around. “I don’t know where the control panel is located.” He looked at the ceiling again with a frown. “We need to trigger the fire suppressant system.”

Danny looked up at the system of pipes above their heads. The sprinklers were more like yellow drums. “Okay, so a fire system should react to heat or smoke. Both of which would be very bad to introduce into such a volatile situation.”

“We also don’t know what this suppression agent uses. It could work by reducing heat or oxygen properties….”

“Reduction…,” Danny started connecting the dots. “You mean if we get caught in a bunch of foam it could suffocate us?”

The rattling noise was getting louder, or was it his imagination? They were basically standing on an oil slick floor, inside a room with a gas leak with vibrating equipment that could trigger a fireball. 

Walking toward one of the far walls, Steve grabbed a clipboard and dropped it with a hiss of pain. “Damn it,” he grunted, curling his injured hand toward his stomach. 

Concern ripped through Danny, but Steve didn’t need concern right now. 

“Oh my God, I know what you have in mind and it’s a terrible idea. ”Danny walked over and snatched the clipboard and ripped away some of the papers. “You got a lighter? Of course, you have a lighter….”

Steve started patting down the side of his pants, his burned hand held protectively around his belly. But Danny knew Steve, knew his habits and the way his mind worked. He reached over and pulled out a lighter from one of the lower pockets. “I’ve got this.”

Not waiting for an argument, Danny hurried up the ramp. Then he climbed over the metal rails and jumped onto the giant diesel engine, the metal vibrating beneath his feet, through his legs and into his teeth.

“Danny….”

“I’ve got it, Steve. Trust me.”

“You know I do.”

Steve’s words sent a jolt of bliss through Danny’s heart. But he didn’t have time to enjoy the moment as he stared up the system that provided the chemical retardant.

Folding the pieces of paper and crumbling the ends into a torch, Danny lit the edges.

Heart pounding, Danny sucked in a breath, blinking up at the ceiling as he held the flames under a pair of yellow fire suppression drums. 

_Come on, come on…._

Swallowing, he flinched when an alarm shrilled and foam started streaming out. Danny swung his head away, the spray missing his face. He dropped the soggy remains of his torch.

“Danny, let’s go!”

The room filled with a whooshing sound as foam poured out from a half a dozen orange drums above their heads. Danny jumped from the top of the engine to the ramp. He swayed on his feet and had to cling to the railing until the room stopped spinning.

“Danny.” Steve said in his ear, grabbing him by the shoulders, steadying him. “Come on.”

Danny dug his fingers into Steve’s bicep until his equilibrium returned. Steve wrapped an arm around Danny’s back, guiding him. 

An alarm blasted in Danny’s ears as foam filled the room and bubbled up to their knees. It had a faint mint odor.

Steve rammed the door with his shoulder, the two of them stumbling out of the engine room. Danny kicked the door closed with his foot. 

Reaching the far wall, Danny let go of Steve and bent over, hands on his knees, panting hard until he caught his breath. “You…okay?”

All he heard was Steve’s harsh breathing in return. 

“Babe?”

Danny forced himself upright, hand brushing against the wall for balance. He was greeted by Steve’s arms as they wrapped around Danny’s shoulders, pulling him close into a fierce hug. 

“Danny,” Steve grunted, squeezing him harder.

Relief flooded Danny, his muscles like taffy, his heart thundering in his ears. He returned Steve’s hug, felt Steve’s muscles tremble between them. “It’s okay, we’re okay,” Danny mumbled, fear and adrenaline surging through him, knowing this wasn’t over, but trying to relish this moment, relish the amazing man beside him. 

“We’re okay,” he said again like mantra, unsure what lay ahead, soaking in every second of being with Steve.

***

Danny held onto Steve, his cheek rubbing against Steve’s neck, breathing in his skin and sweat. He didn’t ever want to let go, but the adrenaline wave he’d been riding on started to crash and his head hurt and he was suddenly aware of how thirsty he was. 

And they really needed to leave. Steve needed to be checked out, and they still had bad guy on the loose.

The hallway door burst open.

Danny whirled around and Steve grabbed his arm, pushing Danny behind him. Danny didn’t have time to roll his eyes when two men barreled inside, one of them holding a giant wrench.

Danny swore he could hear everyone’s heartbeat. 

“You’re Five-O?” the guy with the wrench grunted, his chest heaving.

“We are,” Steve said. He didn’t lower his hands which were held up in a defensive posture.

Wrench Guy lowered his weapon then pulled out a walkie-talkie. “We found them.”

Danny recognized the second guy with the shaved head. “You’re Shane, right?”

“Yeah. Reinhardt sent us after you guys.” Shane wiped a hand over his shaved head and exhaled heavily. “We ran when we heard the fire alarm.”

“There was an oil leak, and fire safety measures were sabotaged. We triggered the fire suppressant to contain the danger.”

Wrench Guy sighed and nodded. “Good call.” He looked at Shane. “This means we’ve got an engine shut-down in progress.”

Shane groaned. “Yeah, okay. We’ll need to get Johnson and Cranston down here.”

“I’ll remain behind. You lead these two back,” Wrench Guy said.

“Come on,” Shane said, waving his hand at Danny and Steve. “Reinhardt wants you guys topside.”

“You got a lead on Burnett?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know, but we’re sick and tired of sitting on our hands.”

“Do you guys have an infirmary?” Danny asked, following.

“Yep. Come on, follow me.”

Good, they all needed to re-group and figure out their next steps, preferably somewhere dry and with supplies.  
***

 

Shane gave Danny a new pair of coveralls to change into since his current set was covered in foam. He couldn’t believe this was his third pair already. Changing gave him a moment to breathe and collect his thoughts and splash water over his face from the little sink in the corner. He felt like crap.

The rig’s physician was Dr. Sotto, a middle-aged woman with little patience for uncooperative people. “Over here, please.”

She ushered him toward a chair and checked his pupils, asking his name and the date while she ran her hands over his skull. He winced when she hit a sore spot.

Stepping back, she peered at Danny over her glasses. “Without proper scans, I can’t be a hundred percent sure, but I think you have a mild concussion.” Sato handed Danny a power bar and an ice pack. “Keep this on that bump for the next twenty minutes.”

Danny held up the power bar. “And this?”

Sato looked at Danny like he was an idiot. “It’s food. You eat it to restore energy.” 

Steve took that moment to walk out of the bathroom, carrying a clean pair of coveralls in one hand and dropping his butt in the chair by the exam table. 

“No, no,” Sato said, waving at him. “On the table, Commander.”

Steve wanted to resist, Danny recognized all the sign of defiance: clenched jaw, tense shoulders, and bone-weary expression. God, they were both sick of doctor’s offices, of tests and examinations that only resulted in vague answers to questions. But Steve did as requested. 

Sato pulled out a tablet and rested it on her left arm. “Do you know the duration of the electric shock you received?”

“I don’t know…two or three seconds.”

“Did you lose consciousness at all?”

“For a minute.”

She pressed her lips together as she continued typing. “Are you experiencing any muscle tremors or spasms?”

“Yes.”

After a few more keystrokes, she put her tablet down on a table and considered Steve a moment. “How do you _feel_ , Commander?”

Danny’s eyebrow shot up in response. While Sato’s bedside matter was very to-the point, very few physicians ever asked Steve such a simple question. 

Steve pursed his lips, his gaze trailing. It was a familiar expression, analytical, parsing how candid to be. Steve’s pain was obvious in his pinched facial features, his trembling right hand, and his rapid breathing. But given the last sixty minutes, it wasn’t surprising.

“My hand hurts and I feel like I got hit by a semi-truck.” Steve released a heavy breath. “And I wouldn’t mind sleeping for like a week, but that’s not going to happen any time soon.”

“That was more honest than I expected, so thank you.” Slipping on a pair of latex gloves, she turned his hand over and looked at the angry blister that took up most of Steve’s palm. 

Then she rested her fingers over his pulse and checked her watch. “Do you have any shortness of breath, chest, or abdominal pain?”

“No.”

Sato kept her fingers on Steve’s wrist. “Any heart palpitations or irregular rhythm?”

“It’s kind of been a stressful last couple of hours, Doc.”

She removed the stethoscope from around her neck. “Commander….”

“My heart feels kind of fast.”

Sato nodded. “Could you remove your shirt? I can cut it to help avoid accidently contact with the burn.”

“I can do it.” 

For her part, Sato didn’t stare at the prominent scar down Steve’s middle. Even after all this time, Danny’s eyes drifted to the puckered one to Steve’s side where the most damaging bullet entered.

“GSW followed by a liver transplant,” Steve told Sato, matter of fact. “It’s from a year ago.”

Steve didn’t mention the radiation poisoning, but Danny wouldn’t begrudge him that. 

“We’ll handle things one step at a time. We’ll begin with your heart, okay?” Placing the ear tips in her ears, she put the drum to Steve’s chest and listened. 

After several moments Sato slung the stethoscope around her neck again and pulled out a blood pressure cuff. “Do you know what caused the electric shock?”

Steve frowned and started to look around the room, classic textbook McGarrett impatience. “Listen Doc, I appreciate this, but we have an emergency situation on board.”

“And you’re the only guy who can save the day?”

“No. Not the only guy.” Steve glanced over at Danny. “But my partner and I have handled dangerous situation like this and that makes us most qualified for the job.”

Danny held Steve’s gaze; pride, affection, exhilaration, and fear all twisting inside his gut. 

“Commander, if the shock was powerful enough to knock you down, there is probable lingering cellular damage from the path the electricity took through your body.” Sato gestured at Steve’s arm which still quivered from time to time. “It’s what is responsible for the muscle tremors. It could go away in a few days or in a few weeks. There could be hidden vascular and nerve damage. You need an EKG, CBC –“

“Can you do any of those tests here?” Steve started to put his shirt back on before she could answer.

“No, but….”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve had an electric shock.” Danny grimaced, but Steve continued, pragmatic to a fault. “It was low to medium voltage, short duration. High amps. It was meant to incapacitate, not kill. When this is all over, I’ll go to an ER; in the meantime...could you please wrap this?”

Steve held up his injured hand. It was such a vulnerable gesture, it squeezed Danny’s heart. Because this wasn’t over, not by a long-shot, and while all Danny wanted to do was leave this place and return home, to take a week off and sleep in with Steve and eat breakfast in bed, he knew Steve was right. They were the most qualified to take down Burnett. 

Sato hesitated, but the door to the infirmary opened and Reinhardt hobbled inside on a pair of crutches. “Are you guys done? Or do you need more TLC or something?”

“We’ll be done in a few minutes,” Steve told him.

Sato shook her head and went over toward a supply cabinet. “I could give you something for the pain…”

“I’ll take something after the emergency is over.”

Steve’s response didn’t surprise Danny. Rolling his neck, he went in search of more power bars. If they were about to finish this crazy assignment, they both needed some energy.

***

Since Reinhardt couldn’t walk far, they all huddled inside the mess area. Steve stood beside Danny, his hand was wrapped in gauze and tape, and his burn treated with antiseptic and antibiotic ointment. Danny scanned various faces, noting Shane, Dodger, Becky, and three guys he didn’t know.

“Obviously the lock down isn’t working,” Danny remarked.

“It’s been hours.” Shane rolled his eyes at him. “You really think people are just gonna stay in their rooms?”

“Speaking of,” Steve nodded at Reinhardt. “Did you send someone to our quarters?”

Becky raised his hand. “I um, went inside. The place was trashed. I couldn’t find your stuff, or your laptop.”

“Our SAT phones?” Steve asked. 

“Nada, dude. Sorry.”

Danny sucked on his bottom lip. “And Burnett took our weapons.” The same weapons Reinhardt had ordered confiscated. 

“We got inside the control room.”

Reinhardt glared at Dodger who pulled down the brim of his baseball cap and looked away.

“When did that happen?” Steve demanded.

“Half an hour ago.” Reinhardt had a clean white bandage wrapped around his head and held a walkie-talkie in a death grip. “Shane filled me in on what happened while you guys were in sickbay. There’s no way Burnett could be at two places at once, so I sent Shane and a few boys to investigate.”

“What happened to your people?” Danny asked. 

“Burnett locked them all inside a damn storage room.” Shane started pacing. “He even tricked the security guys into going in.”

“And we still don’t know Burnett’s whereabouts,” Danny asked, pointing a finger at the remaining crew.

“We could use the cameras to track him down?” Dodger cleared his throat without looking any of them in the eye. “Kind of how he kept tabs on us?”

“Well, the ones that are still functioning,” Shane mumbled.

“How’s that?” Danny asked.

Shane shrugged. “We took all the ones out in the main hallway to make sure he couldn’t use them against us.”

“It’s a waiting game.” Steve stood up from his chair. “He knows back-up will be here in the morning.”

Their options were limited. 

“Why don’t we just round up a party and guard the chopper?” Becky blew a pink bubble. “It works in Dragon Age.”

“It’s too obvious.” Steve started pacing, gesturing. “Burnett was going to blow up the engines as a distraction; he has the skill to sabotage any other part of this rig.”

“Then let’s go after him,” Reinhardt said. Several others nodded at the suggestion. 

Steve shook his head, but Danny interrupted him before he had a chance to argue. “I kind of think he’s right. This guy’s desperate and smart. If we don’t take advantage of resources, he’ll just blow something else up. We’ve got the crew, let’s help coordinate them.”

“We were alternating radio frequencies when people we’re searching for you guys,” Becky said. “We could keep doing that and keep him from being able to monitor our movements.”

All eyes were on Danny and Steve. These people weren’t cops; they were mechanics, electricians, and roughnecks. But they also knew every nook and cranny of the floating platform. 

Based on Steve’s furrowed brow, he was thinking the same thing. “All right, we’ll split up in teams to flush him out. But we do it my way. Got it?”  
***

Between radio communication and good old-fashioned, door-to-door contact, they were able to coordinate a simple plan with two main objectives: protect and search. 

Steve had an air of authority about him; it drew people to him and created loyalty. Danny enjoyed watching him take command and draw people into his orbit.

“We’ll split up into two teams,” Steve said, scanning the couple dozen crew they’d gathered. “Security will protect vital parts of the rig, and we’ll begin search parties in groups of four. All parties will radio Reinhardt, who will coordinate and guide you to your next check-point. Is everyone clear?”

Dodger raised his hand. “And if we spot Burnett, sir?” 

“Don’t approach him. Radio Reinhardt so Danny and I can apprehend him.”

The security officers for the rig grumbled under their breath, and a few others didn’t say a word. Based on their rigid postures and grim expressions, it was a good bet they were not keen on Steve’s last command. These were proud men and women, tight-knit, and capable. Danny suspected they would go after a traitor.

Dodger fiddled with his baseball cap. “What do you think Pull—I mean Burnett is planning?”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“He tried to set the engine room on fire and kill most of us,” Shane growled. “What makes you think he won’t try again?”

“We don’t,” Steve said. “That’s why we’ve got two objectives.”

Shane fidgeted by crossing and uncrossing his arms. 

“According to radar, the storm has dissipated. We’ve got two hours before daylight. Everyone’s got their assignments,” Steve said, scanning everyone. “Let’s move out.”

Almost half the group stood at attention, the others hurried into the hallway. 

Becky marched up to Steve and stood at attention, raising a hand in salute. “Ready for your orders, Commander.”

Steve looked at her like she was an alien. “Thanks Ms. Kidman, but there’s no saluting indoors.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Becky replied and did a little bow instead.

Danny couldn’t help smiling at the bewildered expression on Steve’s face. He walked over and clapped Steve on the back. “Come on General Patton, let’s go.”

“Patton was Army you know,” Shane mumbled at Danny before waiting for them by the doorway.

Danny knew exactly who Patton was, thank you very much. The target of his intended barb reacted exactly how he intended: with a put-out sigh and exaggerated grumble. Even during the direst situations, winding Steve up was an easy way to dissipate the tension. And there was no real heat or bite when they poked at one another; it was comforting.

“Williams, McGarrett,” Reinhardt called out from where he sat, his leg propped up in another chair. “Keep my rig safe.”

Nodding, Steve rested his good hand on Danny’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze before guiding them toward the door.

***


	6. Chapter 6

***

It occurred to Danny they did not actually have a plan for apprehending Burnett. He’d proven to be resourceful, not to mention ruthless. If he was willing to set the engine room on fire, what would do if he felt cornered?

For the third time in the last five minutes, he wished for his weapon. Danny knew Steve had borrowed a knife from one of the roustabouts, who volunteered him a blade.

Becky carried a baseball bat. Shane seemed content to walk around with his bad self. Danny found aMaglite and gripped it in his hand. 

“How did you know about my degree?”

Danny jerked his head up and stared at Steve. “Excuse me?”

“My degree.” Steve glanced at him. “I never told you about it.”

“You want to talk about this _now_?” Only Steve would pick a moment in the middle of a manhunt to have a discussion. 

“It’s just you’ve never mentioned it before and you chose a very intense situation to bring it up.”

“It was to motivate you.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Steve stopped and grabbed Danny’s arm, curling his fingers around the muscle. “It was…nice.” 

“You come up with the worse plans that always seems to work and while I believe it’s a combination of luck and miracles, it’s also because you’re intelligent, far more intelligent than this damn Seabee.” Danny sighed, still amazed how little Steve valued or comprehended his accomplishments. “Not everyone graduates from the Naval Academy.”

Steve gave him one of those sweet, bashful smiles that always made Danny’s heart melt and hurt at the same time. Because everything he’d just said was the truth. Steve’s ideas always pushed the boundaries, but he pulled them off because of good instincts and an uncanny ability to understand and test his limits to the max. Steve just needed to learn what those limits were now. 

“You know, when I first entered the Academy, I kind of wanted to design ships.” 

Danny’s head shot up at that, a smile tugging at his lips. 

Steve gave him a small one in return and shrugged. “I changed my mind in my sophomore year.”

Danny was unexpectedly intrigued at the idea of Steve as a master draftsman. 

The radio buzzed and Steve listened as Reinhardt updated him on the rest of crew’s progress; all vital areas of the rig had been secured. There wasn’t a way for Burnett to sabotage another area.

That left the helideck.

“Do you really think Burnett is hanging by the chopper just waiting for the sun to rise?” Shane asked. 

“No,” Steve said with a shake of his head. “He’ll be somewhere with a vantage point.”

Danny agreed, they were playing a deadly case of cat and mouse. “But he has to know we’re searching for him. Which means…?”

“He’ll create another distraction,” Steve said.

“But we’re guarding all the important stuff,” Becky reminded them.

Steve hovered at an intersection in the corridor, thinking. 

The hair along Danny’s neck started to stand up. “What?”

Steve looked at Becky. “How would you like to add working with a military aircraft to your resume?”

“I might forgive you for waving a knife at me earlier.”

The ends of Steve’s mouth upturned and he got a glint in his eyes. “Do you think you could use your crane skills to ensure that helo can’t take-off?”

Becky’s eyebrow rose, her lower jaw dropping. “Dude.”

“I take that as a yes?” Steve asked still grinning.

“Yes, affirmative, positive, whatever floats your boat. Because I can one hundred percent make that helicopter inoperable.” She started rocking from her heels to her tip toes in glee.

Danny held up a hand. “Um, did you just instruct someone to destroy military property?”

“Not destroy, make inoperable.”

Becky continued bouncing on her feet. “I could do either.”

“No,” Steve said holding up his bandaged hand. “I think breaking it will suffice.”

“Whatever. Man, this is so freaking cool.”

“I want you to remain in constant radio contact,” Steve instructed. “Got it?”

“Aye, Aye,” Becky said with a salute.

Steve snorted. “All right, why don’t you–“

“Actually, why don’t you stay put?” Shane said behind them.

Danny whirled around and came face-to-face with barrel of a gun. Again. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Steve stood in front of Becky. 

Shane pointed his weapon at him. “Don’t move.”

Steve raised his hands, slowly. He glanced at Danny. “Guess this confirms that Burnett has a partner.”

“The question is why?” Danny growled staring at Shane. “Or are you also impersonating an oil rig worker to avoid a murder rap?”

“Murder? Hell, no, I got nuthin’ to do with murder.”

The denial Danny expected, but not the stupidity. “Really? What do you call aiding and abetting attempted arson, kidnapping, and assault, not to mention an act of terrorism?”

“Terrorism?” Shane barked back. He didn’t even bother defending himself against the other charges. 

It just pissed Danny off more. “Is this an echo chamber? You do realize that trying to blow-up the engine room of a billion dollar off-shore oil rig operation is an act of terrorism?”

“I had no idea about that.”

“But you’ve got no problem pulling a gun on two cops and a civilian, one of your co-workers….”

“This…this all got completely out of hand.” Shane started backing away. 

Danny held up his hands, calm, placating. Shane’s involvement wasn’t premeditated; he could work with that. Without moving his head, he glanced at Steve out of the corner of his eye, the two of them communicating without words. Steve kept Becky behind him, shielding her, and lifted his chin in encouragement. 

Danny had established a rapport; he needed to keep going. He gave Steve the slightest of nods.

“Talk to us.Tell us your side of things. What happened? How did you and Burnett start working together?”

Shane shook his head. “It was that damn leak.”

“What leak?”

“It was an accident. I was high and fucked up the pressure test and released a ton of crud.” Shane rubbed at his temple with his free hand. “Pullman, I mean damn it, _Burnett_ came in to conduct a safety check and he didn’t have a freaking clue what to do. He couldn’t even name the correct part to fix.”

Burnett’s secret had been blown. 

“You realized he wasn’t who he said he was,” Danny concluded. 

“Yeah. But not before I dumped a ton of fucking petroleum into the ocean.”

“Not to mention being high,” Danny added.

Shane glared at him. “It was in both our best interests to keep each other’s secrets.”

“That doesn’t really explain or justify our current situation,” Danny said, gesturing at the Sig in Shane’s hand. 

But Shane hadn’t noticed; it was as if he couldn’t stop all the secrets he’d been forced to keep from spilling out. “We couldn’t fix the leak. Every time we thought we had it under control—“ 

“It released more,” Danny finished.

“And it got worse and worse. Do you have any idea the fines the rig would face?” Shane’s nostrils flared. “And we got in deeper and deeper, but we were only days away from the contract getting signed. Then you guys fucking showed up.”

Bingo.

“And you went from concealing leaks to threatening two cops.” It amazed Danny how many crimes were a result of concealing one deception for another. 

“I have a record! I have a felony amount of meth in my quarters.” Shane rubbed his hand over his mouth, grunting. “Everything happened so fast. The fire in the theater…then he forced me to help him trigger the lockdown. Promised me money if I helped him escape….”

“How?” Danny asked. They needed to know Burnett’s plan. 

Something shrilled in the hallway, it sounded like one of those CO2 warning alarms. Shane flicked his eyes up at something in the ceiling corner then back up at them, his gun hand trembling. 

“Shane! How are you supposed to help him escape?” Danny pressed, the odd sound rattling his nerves.

“He can’t fly the chopper.” Shane snorted. “I’m a trained pilot.”

Danny shared a look of surprised shock with Steve. What the hell?

“Where is he?” Steve demanded. 

The alarm echoed in the corridor, this time much louder. This was escalating fast; that alarm meant something else was undoubtedly going to kill them all. Shane looked ready to break. Danny thought fast.

“Steve,” Danny spoke up. “Maybe we should ask Burnett?” he asked, pointing at the doorway behind Shane.

Shane looked away for a second, but that was all Steve needed.

Steve grabbed Shane’s wrist, twisting the gun out of Shane’s grasp. With the weapon pointed away, Steve pulled Shane closer and kneed him in the chest. 

Shane stumbled backward. Danny grabbed his arm and yanked it behind his back and kicked Shane in the back of his knee, sending him to the ground. Breathing heavy, Danny let go of Shane’s arm while Steve kept his weapon trained on him.

“Stay on your knees, put your hands behind your head and interlock your fingers,” Steve commanded.

Shane complied, panting. His whole face was drenched in sweat.

Danny turned to check on Becky, who stood behind them with her bat raised, ready to strike. “You okay?” 

She nodded but didn’t lower her baseball bat. He gently paid a hand on her shoulder. “Take a few deep breaths. Everything is going to be fine.”

The mysterious alarm in the hallway chirped again.

Becky’s eyes grew wide. “Dude, no, it’s not.”

Danny whirled around and starred at Shane. “What is that?”

Steve narrowed his eyes at Shane. “The man asked you a question.”

“It’s a hydrogen sulfide sensor alarm.”

Danny’s heart jumped. “It’s a what?”

***

It was hard to remain calm in the face of imminent poisoning. Danny bit his lip and resisted the urge to punch Shane in the jaw when he didn’t answer right away. 

Steve, however, had no issue yelling. “What the hell are you and Burnett planning?”

“I ain’t planning anything with him.”

“Wrong answer!” Steve held his Sig with his left hand, bracing it over his right wrist. Heaimed it atShane’s leg, his intent clear. “What did he sabotage this time?”

“Who the hell knows? My bet is the drilling equipment,” Shane growled. “If he’s disconnected some of the safety measures, he could have released detectable amounts of fumes to trigger a system-wide alert.”

Becky started pacing. “Or he could have pulled out the drill and allowed it to release highly toxic amounts. Dude, this is not good.”

“Come on, Becky, you know he doesn’t know how to do that,” Shane said. “He’s screwin’ with us. Reinhardt’s probably already got a team on it.”

Danny pulled out his walkie-talkie and switched it to the proper channel to contact the rig boss. “Reinhardt, this is Danny, over.”

_“Williams, we’ve got a situation on our hands. You and McGarrett need to avoid all lower levels until further notice.”_

“Yeah, we’re aware of the emergency,” Danny responded. “Do you –“

_“Then stay off this channel. I’ve got several teams on it.”_

Danny stared at his walkie-talkie. Well that was helpful.

“It’s another diversion,” Steve said. 

“And now we have hardly anyone left to hunt this asshole down,” Danny growled.

Steve got within inches of Shane’s face “What was the plan? Burnett can’t escape without you.”

“I was going to meet him at the helideck at 0500.”

Steve checked his watch. “That’s in thirty minutes.”

“And that was after you got rid of us, right?” Danny reminded him.

“No, man. I was going to ditch you, or I don’t know, lock you up somewhere.”

“With high levels of a toxic gas building.” Danny had no patience for this guy’s complicity in multiple counts of attempted murder.

“I said I don’t know anything about–“

“Shut up,” Steve yelled. 

Steve stared down at Shane with enough intensity to burn lead. “Standup.” He grabbed Shane by the arm and hauled him to his feet until they stood side-by-side. “We’re about the same height and build.”

Danny did not like where this was going. “That’s some stunning observation skills.”

“With coveralls and a hard hat, Burnett shouldn’t be able to tell the difference from a distance.”

“You want to go in this numbskull’s place.”

“Yeah.”

“On a helideck where there is no place for me to hide or get near to provide you back-up.”

Steve raised his weapon. “This is my back-up.”

“Which you can’t grip with the correct hand,” Danny pointed out, worried. “And _I’m_ your damn back-up, that’s my job.”

“It’s our best way to get this guy.”

“And you’re practically giving him exactly what he wants since you’re probably the only other person on this rig who can fly the chopper.”

Steve shook his head. “I told you, he’s a coward.”

“Desperate people do desperate things! He could force you to fly him where he wants to go then kill you when you land.”

Steve was strung tighter than a bow, his breathing harsh. 

He pinned Danny with this look, where his eyes went a deep shade of blue. He bent over, speaking in Danny’s ear, his words a throaty whisper. “I might have lost my edge or gotten a step slower, but if I can’t trust my instincts…then I might as well throw in the towel.”

“I trust your judgment. But I’ll never stop worrying about what-ifs, or channel my very well-placed concern about your safety, which by the way, you’d do exactly for me.”

“Noted.”

Danny noticed Shane staring at them, bewildered, and he sighed. “You’re not allowed an opinion.”

Becky, who had been mostly silent, moved toward them. “Does this mean I can’t lay waste to that chopper?”

Steve pointed at her. “No, in fact, I think you and your crane skills are exactly the type of back-up we’re going to need.”

 _Oh, Lord help us,_ Danny thought.

***

Even though he’d had a bird eye’s view of the oil rig from the air when they landed, Danny had not paid that much attention to the helideck and the surrounding monstrosity of metal. 

The helideck was elevated over the rest of the rig. There were no railings around the edges; probably to keep the legs of the chopper from getting caught on anything during landings.

Three flights of metal stairs went from the top to the deck below, the only way to reach the platform. It was isolated; hell part of it hung over the ocean, making Steve a freaking stationary target.

Danny hated this plan. He couldn’t risk being seen, so all he could do was hunker down in a doorway. His position was directly across from the helideck. There wasn’t much space to the left except for one or two office trailers. To his right was a sprawling mass of containers and wooden pallets for loading and offloading of supplies.

If he cracked open the hatch and craned his neck up until it hurt, he could spot Steve’s silhouette standing beside the helicopter. Waiting. 

Before they handcuffed Shane to one of the hallway railings, they took his walkie-talkie and got the frequency he used with Burnett to communicate. He listened to Becky on the other walkie as she climbed up the ten million stairs to the operator cabin. It made him nauseous just thinking about how high she needed to go.

 _“Almost there,”_ she huffed through the com.

Steve kept the other radio in his pocket; it was turned on so he could hear Danny, although he wouldn’t be able to use it to talk.

The door to one of the trailers opened and Burnett walked out. It was difficult to see if he was armed. Sunrise was in thirty minutes. 

“Steve, he’s coming out of the trailer west of your position,” Danny told him.

Danny stared through the cracked hatch wishing he had a weapon. They had re-confiscated the Sig that Shane had stolen. Danny insisted that Steve carry it. Danny still had the Maglite and his temper.

Burnett walked until he was in front of the stairway and peered up.

 _“What’s your status, Shane?”_ his voice carried over the radio.

 _“Clear,”_ Steve mumbled.

Danny bit his lip.

Burnett started up the stairs, moving up the flight until he reached the first landing, and stood. _“I’m going to need you to toss away the gun I gave you.”_

_“Negative.”_

_“Shane,”_ Burnett growled. _“Toss the gun.”_

 _“Dude, Burnett’s pulled out his weapon,”_ Becky informed Danny over the other radio. “McGarrett hasn’t.”

The wind whipped around and Danny had to press hard against the door to keep it from slamming closed. He gripped the Maglite in his right hand. 

Holding his breath, Danny pushed open the door further trying to see what was happening.

 _“Burnett’s started walking up the second flight,”_ Becky continued giving him intel from the control box of her crane _“…wait…he’s pulling something else out of his pocket….”_

Danny came out of the doorway and squinted against the wind blowing in his face. He started toward the stairs leading up to the helideck.

A bright light flashed in the air and it took a second for Danny to realize it was a flare gun. 

_“Uh-oh,”_ Becky said.

“Drop your weapon!” Steve yelled.

Gun fire erupted; it was hard to tell who pulled the trigger. But the first barrage was followed by a second volley.

Becky was yelling over the radio, but Danny had left it behind. He reached the first landing of stairs when he saw Burnett running toward him.

Burnett froze, then aimed his weapon at Danny—

Danny leaped to the deck, bullets whizzing through the air where he had just been standing. Danny rolled and scrambled to his feet, but the world kept spinning and it took him a second too long to get to his feet.

Burnett jumped the last few steps and landed on the deck with Steve hot on his heels. 

Burnett spun around, aiming his weapon at Steve just as Steve reached the deck, his Sig pointed at Burnett in return.

“I didn’t kill those sailors; it was an accident!” Burnett yelled.

“The guilty don’t run,” Steve growled. 

“I was being railroaded. The equipment was faulty.”

“Just like you didn’t try to blow-up the engine room?” Steve demanded.

“It was a tactical diversion. You’re a SEAL; I knew you’d be able to handle it.”

“While we were both handcuffed?” Steve stepped closer, two hands curled around his weapon, his arms trembling from a tremor. “And the Hydrogen sulfide leak was that just another diversion tactic?”

“Exactly.” Burnett had to use both hands, too. “If this crew can’t handle it, then they should have been trained better.”

Steve started closing the distance between them. “Nothing’s your fault, is it? You can’t take responsibility for any of your actions.”

“Maybe I’ll shoot you in the gut.” Burnett aimed lower. “Then you’ll have no choice to fly me before you bleed out.”

It was a stand-off. Burnett kept his weapon trained on Steve and Steve’s stance never faltered. And it made Danny nauseous having the barrel of a weapon pointed at that fucking scar, at the wound that was still so damn slow to heal. 

Danny stepped closer, ready to bash the Maglite over Burnett’s thick head. 

“Then pull the trigger you asshole,” Steve yelled. 

_God damn it, stop provoking the unstable asshole with the gun, Steven._ But that simply wasn’t Steve, that wasn’t the man Danny had been trying to nurture and fireup.

No, this Steve was pissed and sick to death of this asshole and his fucking excuses. 

“Have you ever seen what a bullet does to the human body? How it rips through skin and muscle, splattering blood everyone, on your face, on your boots.” Steve swallowed his voice thick, his skin unhealthily pale. “Have you ever heard the noise a person makes when they know they’re dying?”

Damn it, Danny did, he was all too familiar with those sounds, the smell of blood, of so much of it all over that floor of that cockpit as all the color drained from Steve’s face….

Steve was almost within arms’ reached as he stepped closer to Burnett. “Did you even visit your buddies in the infirmary after your negligence burned them?”

“It was…faulty equipment.” Burnett stepped backward. 

“Tell it to the children who don’t have their parents, or the spouses who lost their partners. And tell it to every living creature you killed and made sick because you wanted to keep your damn secret.”

“I…it wasn’t my fault.”

Steve snorted in disgust. “Nothing ever is.”

Burnett took another step back. And Danny was sure the man was going to have a nervous breakdown and shoot Steve until he ran out of bullets.

A loud metal clanking noise made Danny jump and Burnett spin around—

A giant chain swung behind them, the kinetic energy it created like a physical force as it swung over the ocean—the sound a rippling disturbance as swung back across.

“Lower your weapon!” Steve ordered.

Burnett ran in the opposite direction and dropped like a weight when Steve shot him in the leg.

Burnett flopped onto the deck and Steve stalked him as the asshole started crawling away, Danny beside him, matching Steve step by step.

“Richard Burnett, you have the right to remain silent. If you do say anything, what you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult with a lawyer and have that lawyer present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you if you so desire.”

Danny marched over stepped on Burnett’s hand before he could reach for the Sig that had scattered beyond his reach. The little shit whimpered. 

Reaching over, Danny gladly pulled out a pair of zip ties he’d grabbed and restrained Burnett’s hands behind his back. 

Steve strode over, his chest rising and falling, his arms shaking. Danny stood up and wordlessly took Steve’s weapon from his grasp, sparing him from having to carry it anymore. 

“It’s over. We’ve got this asshole.”

Burnett rolled over onto his side, his body shaking, his leg bleeding from his wound. “All I wanted…was a fresh start….”

“Those have to be _earned.”_ Releasing a long breath, Steve looked over at Danny and gave him a tight smile. “You okay?”

“Ask me when we’re sitting on the lanai with a fresh beer.”

But Steve was still brimming with adrenaline, still angry based on his taut shoulders and the set of his mouth, the way he glared at Burnett with such disdain. 

“Come on,” Danny said, grabbing him by the elbow and steering him away just far enough for privacy. 

“He doesn’t deserve a fresh start.”

“And he’s not going to get one.” Danny stood in front of Steve, forced him to look him in the eye. “He’s not. Hey, he’s not. He’s going to pay for all the deaths and maiming and poisoning he’s committed.” Resting both hands flat against Steve’s heaving chest. “And he’s going face the consequences he’s been too gutless to accept.”

Steve touched the side of Danny’s face, gentle fingers curing under Danny’s chin, down the side of his neck, his thumb stroking his left cheek.

After ensuring the safety was on, Danny shoved the Sig into his waistband and wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders, pulling him close, holding and hugging him until they both stopped shaking. 

“It’s okay, Danny,” Steve whispered in Danny’s ear.

And it hit Danny; how Steve was trying to reassure him, calm _him_ down. How maybe Danny hadn’t fully processed the last few months or weeks or days either. 

After a good solid minute, Danny pulled away, taking a long shuddering breath. Then he looked up at the tiny control box of a monster crane thirty stories up and waved up at Becky. “We owe her like…dinner and a six-pack.” Because what she did was an impressive feat of skill. 

“Maybe even a case. Or two.”

“And free parking tickets for life,” Danny added with a chuckle. Lord it felt so good to laugh.

***

It was always satisfying to walk a suspect to lock-up, to know a promise had been fulfilled. Arresting people was always linked to tragedy, to violence or loss, or some other combination. While Danny soaked in the pride of dragging Burnett before the crew he’d deceived and endangered, he knew there were dozens of grieving families who might–slowly—begin to heal.

He walked inside Reinhardt’s office where he sat behind a desk talking on the radio with his superiors, while Dodger and some other guy stood off to the side for instructions. 

“I take it we’re not going to die from inhaling Hydrogen sulfide?” Danny asked them.

“Not today,” Dodger told him.

“Oh, good. That’s nice to know.”

“It wasn’t a real leak,” Dodger spoke up. “It was this jury-rig with–” 

“I don’t need the details, but thanks.”

Steve strode inside while finishing his call with the team. Clicking off the SAT phone, he nodded at Danny. “The call to SWAT’s been canceled. Tani and Junior just landed to help take Shane and Burnett into custody.”

“You do know you can’t fly back, right?”

“Yeah. Junior will fly us. Tani will have the pleasure of riding with HPD.”

“Are you…um, going to back-seat pilot? Because I’d like to know so I can disconnect my radio.”

“Funny.”

Steve stood in front of Reinhardt’s desk while he was on the radio. The rig boss kept Steve waiting several more minutes before finishing his call. 

Pale and exhausted-looking, Reinhardt slouched in his chair and waved a hand in Steve’s direction. “Don’t worry, Commander, there’s a huge analysis team flying in to help assist with a temporary shut-down so we can perform a hull to stern inspection and rig evaluation.”

“I know you’ll do right by this rig and her crew. And you’ll do it with all the precautions necessary to prevent another ecological disaster.”

“What? You’re not going to lecture me about the rest?” Reinhardt snorted.

“That’s not my job.”

Danny knew exactly what Steve had left unspoken. 

“Humph. Well, thank you, both of you,” Reinhardt said, gesturing at them. “And thanks for getting that scum off my rig.”

“You’re welcome,” Steve said.

“Now please, get the hell outta here.”

Danny nodded at Reinhardt, but he didn’t have much to add. The guy was a prick, which made him perfect for the job. They walked out of the office.The only person Danny really wanted to say goodbye to was–

“Yo.”

Danny turned around and watched as Becky high-fived Steve. She was wearing a brand new set of coveralls. “Williams, McGarrett. Crazy day, huh?”

“You could say that,” Danny said with a tired smile. “And what about you? You going to sleep now or go drink some beers?”

“Naw. I’ve got stuff to transport around before the inspection. And since I didn’t get to lay waste to that chopper, I’ve got to get my excitement somehow.”

Danny laughed. “You, um, didn’t get your fill in the last twenty-four hours?” 

She shrugged. 

“Thanks for the assist with the crane, by the way,” Steve said. “That was a pretty big risk you took.”

“Calculated risk, dude.” She gave him a smile. “It was all geometry. Risk ain’t scary if you’ve got science and know-how behind it.”

Danny was struck by such a simple personal philosophy, and based on Steve’s soft smile, he’d found it charming, if not relevant to a certain SEAL mindset. 

Steve pulled out his wallet and pulled out a familiar business card. “If you ever get tired of operating that crane of yours, give me a call.”

Becky’s face lit up. “Thanks.” She stared at it a moment in curiosity. “I’ve never had one of these before.”

Steve looked affronted, and Danny clapped him on the back. “Come on, we’ll get you in the air where you can look out the window like an eager puppy.” When they neared the hatch leading topside, he leaned over. “Are we really looking for a new team member?”

“I don’t know; I like to keep tabs on all fresh talent. Besides, I think she should meet Jerry. They’d get along like gangbusters.”

“When we get back to the mainland for that check-up, let’s make-sure you weren’t exposed to too many fumes or something.”

***

Sadly, Danny was used to the hustle and bustle of Tripler; he even knew which chair in the ER waiting room had the best view of the door. Since the hospital had a helipad, Junior was able to drop them off before returning the chopper to Pearl-Hickman. 

He was exhausted, every muscle ached to his bones, but he fought to keep his eyes open despite the desire for sleep. He must have dozedoff at some point; he suddenly felt someone standing in front of him.

Opening his eyes, he saw Steve waiting for him. “Hey,” Danny said, stretching. “How’d it go?”

“The scans were within acceptable range given what happened. I’ve got a script for an antibiotic,” Steve said, holding up a piece of paper. “But the doc says I can go home as long as I rest.”

“That goes without saying.” Danny stood and twisted his back until the vertebrae popped. “And everything else? How’s your hand?”

“Second degree burn.” Steve turned over his palm, his hand sporting a fresh bandage. “I’ve got to re-dress it every other day. And Dr. Iona wants to see me on Monday for a check-up.”

“Iona is your primary physician; he needs to stay on top of any changes to your health.” 

“Yeah, I’m not worried.” Steve looked at Danny with all seriousness. “I can’t be. And I won’t.”

“Come on, let’s go home,” Danny said, ushering Steve toward the exit.

***

Lying in bed never felt so good. Danny whole body felt loose and relaxed after a thirty minute hot shower and some Advil. He was going to sleep in all day, maybe even into the afternoon. Maybe they could get brunch delivered. 

Steve was snuggled against him with an arm draped over Danny’s chest and his head buried on Danny’s shoulder, his fingers gently rubbing patterns along Danny’s side. Danny hadn’t felt so warm and comfortable in a long time. 

“Thank you,” Steve said in the darkness, kissing Danny’s collarbone.

“I didn’t know you were still awake.” Danny wrapped an arm around Steve and ran his fingers along his bare arm. “And what am I being thanked for?”

“For what you did today and for the last couple of weeks.”

“That’s what we do for each other. It’s part of package, yeah?”

“I know it’s been challenging of late…I’m still adjusting to the last eighteen months.”

“There’s no timetable for adjusting, Steve. Take all the time in the world; just know I’m always here. I have two good ears as well as a talkative mouth.” 

Steve chuckled and Danny rested his hand on Steve’s side, enjoying the warm skin. “There’s nothing you can’t talk to me about.”

“What if I don’t know what it is?”

To know something is wrong and still not be able to identify it was one of life’s most challenging problems. Danny squeezed Steve’s arm. “Then we go to a professional, or if you don’t want to do that, we can get away somewhere, find a change of environment….”

“Like an oil rig?”

“Definably _not_ an oil rig.”

“Maybe next weekend we could go to Kua Bay to swim with the Honu?”

“I am not going snorkeling, but I _will_ sit on the beach and watch you swim with the turtles.”

“I could teach you to snorkel.”

“Or I could drink a beer on the beach under a nice umbrella.” But Danny was smiling; he was glad they had done something more than just lock-up a bad guy. They had protected part of the island itself, and in the process, perhaps turned a corner, together. “Maybe some of those naval families will rest easier tonight.”

“I’m going to Pearl-Hickman next week to debrief Captain Holland about Burnett. We could drive together.”

“So, I could sit in my car when you go inside?”

“I’ll get you a guest pass, but I was thinking maybe you’d like to see the blueprints for the _USS Gerald R. Ford._ It’s the new class of aircraft carrier. The designs are on loan for personnel to check-out until the end of the month.”

Danny opened his mouth to say no, but he could practically feel Steve’s enthusiasm bleed into him. He thought about all those books on Steve’s shelves, at a decision from being a naval architect to being a SEAL. “And is there something special about this boat, or is it–“

“It’s not a boat, it’s an aircraft carrier. And it’s freaking awesome. It has all this cool new tech, like a redesigned island, electromagnetic catapult system…” Steve pushed up with his good hand until he was sitting up in bed, animated. “And don’t get me started on its new multifunction and volume search radars.”

Instead of throwing a pillow over his head, Danny scooted on his ass until he was sitting up in bed too, a smile tugging on his lips as Steve geeked-out about schematics and engines, sharing his passion with Danny, and Danny basking in every second of it.

***

Fini-  
Thank you for taking this journey with me. This was a little different for me and I hoped you enjoyed it. Comments are ❤

You can hang out with me here :) http://thekristen999.tumblr.com

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art: Operation: Steve](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13747605) by [nihilvanum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilvanum/pseuds/nihilvanum)




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